


A THOUSAND YEARS

by YourDarkStar



Series: A THOUSAND YEARS [1]
Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: (some chapters), A fix-it story but with alternate universes instead of time traveling, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BAMF Cloud Strife, Catharsis, Cloud Strife Needs a Hug, Complicated Relationships, Dream Sex, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Fix-It of Sorts, Fluff and Angst, General Cloud Strife, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Illustrated, M/M, Mutual Pining, Sassyroth, Sephiroth (Compilation of FFVII) Needs A Hug, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Soul Bond, Srsly check out chapter 4 XD, The fun starts at chapter 4, Touch-Starved, Whump, Wings, Wutai War (Compilation of FFVII), Yaoi, it is a romance story, major character death (hinted at) please bear with me, more than one different version of each character, redemption arc for Cloud, soft Sefikura
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:13:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 45,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27294748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YourDarkStar/pseuds/YourDarkStar
Summary: "That's General Strife to you, asshole!"(Finally updating again ^_^).Revenge led Cloud to fight for the wrong side at the wrong time.When he meets a man who looks like the spitting image of Sephiroth, Cloud hopes for a second chance. But the silver-haired man doesn’t want to be anywhere near him.Sephiroth figures that no matter what universe he travels to, he will always run into Cloud’s arms sooner or later. It usually ends deadly for one of them.This time however, fate seems to have different plans for them.——A fix-it story; but with alternate universes instead of time traveling.
Relationships: Genesis Rhapsodos/Sephiroth, Sephiroth/Cloud Strife
Series: A THOUSAND YEARS [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1992865
Comments: 99
Kudos: 141





	1. He Wants Revenge Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you want to, you can listen to some music:  
> Woodkid - Iron

## 

(Posted with permission. Source: [Click here for artist's Twitter :)](https://twitter.com/DarkTownArt/status/1335390530948255745/photo/1) )

## 1 HE WANTS REVENGE

_There are realms in which_

_some of us are destined to die._

_They must be destroyed a thousand times._

_Only then can they become whole again._

  
  


Had anyone laid eyes on the former Silver General, they would have hardly believed that he had once been the poster boy of ShinRa, the very company whose compounds he now invaded to put an end to its very existence. 

The coat of his uniform had long been torn, the exquisite leather, formerly tailored to fit his (impressive) size perfectly, resembling rags now more than anything. He wore his pauldrons still, but the metal had gone dull and rusty from all the harsh weather he had been facing throughout his (hideaways). His long silver hair hung loosely to his sides. He resembled more of a feral animal than a man as he cut his way from floor to floor. 

ShinRa tower was a fortress that bore a plague in its very heart. No gods or alien life forms could be blamed for it, had it been a plague created by man himself. It had greedily infested the planet, sucked it dry, and had transformed it into a war-torn place. 

Upwards…. and upwards still he went. Over 60 floors cleared already. When he was done, his rampage would come to an end on the 70th floor.

It was a hideous job to burden yourself with, but it had to be done. Only once every room and chamber had been cleared, this planet would be cleansed from ShinRa’s deadly claws.

The upper floors had their wide hallways draped in dark marble, dressed to impress the visitor. This visitor, however, had not come to enjoy the view as he shaped the length of his sword’s blade by will. Masamune which, was summoned and strengthened by his life energy, would be easier to wield in the narrower hallways that would soon follow, if it was sized like an average katana for the moment. 

The back area of the higher floors had not been created to be seen by visitors. It could rather be compared to a maze if you were not used to them. But the silver-haired man knew them quite well from all the years he had had to spend there against his will.

Once he rounded the next corner, he faced another wave of ShinRa infantrymen. How foolish of the old president to send those puppets his way, he should very well know by now that they wouldn’t stand a chance against a man like Sephiroth. He cast a barrier spell on himself and advanced. They were struck down swiftly. 

The 60th floor led him to the president’s favorite office. So he was not surprised to be greeted by yet another wave of infantrymen. It seemed like the old president had decided to bunker up in there after all. The thought alone produced a sinister expression on Sephiroth’s face. The president surely hadn’t learned one bit. Too stubborn to leave what was his, even in moments so close to his certain defeat. 

Cutting through the corridor that led to the large golden double doors would be a bloody mess. So he ushered a warning towards the infantrymen as they were firing away at his barrier. Bullets dispersing into nothingness as the spell ate them all up. He could do this all day long and everyone who the old man sent his way would die.

\----

Sephiroth kicked the golden doors in with such force that they were torn from their hinges.

Old president ShinRa sat behind his desk, guarded by a hand full of shielded infantrymen, his golden gun on display on the table in front of him. His eyes trained on the feral shadow of what used to be his former Silver General in a piercingly cold expression. An expression returned with as much coldness from the slitted green eyes of his opponent. Folded hands and elbows rested on the table, the president spoke coldly. “Yield now, Demon of Wutai.” 

Sephiroth stood in the doorway, sword in hand. Eyes trained on the shielded men who blocked the way to his target. His voice was equally cold. “Tell your men to leave and they may live.”

“I will do no such thing, Demon of Wutai.”

“Then you shall die.”

The president rose to his feet now, while his hands were still on the table, not reaching for the gun, however. He orated darkly. “Yield or I will make you.”

Sephiroth felt the energy build up in his hand as he was already summoning Thundara, avoiding Fira on purpose since he didn’t want the fire extinguishers to counteract its effects. 

Bold of them to assume that they could penetrate his barrier with the bullets of their feeble rifles. He had renewed the spell just before he had kicked the doors in. It would need someone comparable to his own strength to wear him down enough for it to give in even remotely. Sephiroth was quite aware that his enemy could see the energy building up in his hand as he addressed him once more. “This is your last chance. Tell your men to stand down now.”

The president’s expression was already telling Sephiroth that the old man had no plans to comply and that he was willing to send his men into their certain deaths could mean only one thing - they were doing their best to get as much material saved from the upper floors as possible before the silver-haired man could reach them and tear the whole place down. 

When he had closed in on ShinRa tower, Sephiroth had had to make a decision. Start at the labs in the basement and finish at the top floors, or work his way down to the basement labs from the top floors? Starting with the upper floors would have been a safe bet had he wanted to get to Hojo’s most valuable assets first, which would have meant he would have entered the basement by the end of his tour when he was likely worn down and could therefore be cornered more easily. Taking this tour would have increased the risk of getting injured, which he could afford to a certain extent only. 

So why worry about taking the escape route from the roof when you could fly? Using the roof would be a safe escape, even if it meant that Hojo would have the chance to get some specimens saved this way. Sephiroth would hunt the man down regardless of where he went, and then he would make him pay for what he had done.

He did not need to listen to what the old man said now, bullets flying his way was all he needed to sense as he willed his power into the spell and set it free to strike havoc amongst the men in front of him. 

And while the president's men gave their all to shield him in the last moments they had left alive, ShinRa himself grabbed his golden gun and, seemingly protected by his own barrier from the Thundara spell, hit a hidden button at the wall behind him.

Sephiroth’s eyes widened. A panic room. He should have seen this coming. The president would have never waited for him completely unprepared. 

The old man fled inside his bunker with a smug grin on his face, while his men dropped to the floor one by one. Sephiroth stared back into his eyes as the door closed. Did the president really believe that a simple panic room could keep a man like Sephiroth from getting to his target?

He stepped closer, being attentive to any kind of traps that might keep an intruder from blasting through the door. If anything heavy came his way, he would be able to absorb the first blows, but even his barrier spells couldn’t last forever. He had encountered mostly infantrymen on his way up here, so he was still pretty well stocked up on energy levels. However, getting through the heavy door would not only eat up some of his reserves, it would slow him down as well. 

Unpleasant; but if he didn’t fetch the president’s ID card, he would have to blast through way more doors than this one, which would unnecessarily deplete him even further, and he did not know what would face him at the upper levels.

ShinRa still had some SOLDIER’s serving, so Sephiroth figured while he checked the door carefully that they had probably kept their best for last.

His examination revealed quickly that the door was quite sturdy, which made its weakest point the closing mechanism. Calling his strongest wind magic to bend the door inwards would probably do the trick and crack it off its hinges. He took a step back again, focused on his objective, already preparing to summon the spell, when he heard a familiar voice echoing from the hallways.

“Hold it right there.”

Sephiroth’s heart skipped a beat since he knew that voice all too well. He turned around slowly, not willing to see who inevitably would be coming down the hallways. 

The man was donning a long dark blue coat, pauldrons pretty similar to his own, but of a darker polished grey, hair resembling that of black raven spikes. It was Zack, Sephiroth realized with a painful sting in his chest.

Sephiroth hadn’t seen the other man for over a year. He had wanted their reunion to be under happier circumstances, but ShinRa had apparently promoted the raven-haired man to the rank of a general and he seemed very determined to see his job through. 

Zack came to a halt in the wrecked door frame. The buster sword resting on his shoulders. The only thing Sephiroth managed to say was “Why?”

Zack could not be here, not now. 

“I’ll ask you this only once, ex-general Sephiroth. Lay down your sword, hand over your materia orbs, and come with me. Do as you’re told and you will not be harmed.”

“Zack, why?”

“Deserting your post is subject to court-martial, which is to be executed by firing squad.”

“I know all of this, Zack!”

“Don’t make this any harder for any of us.”

Sephiroth shook his head slowly. Of course, old ShinRa played the Zack card now. The old man was probably capitalizing on the fact that Sephiroth would not want to harm his formerly closest companion. “And what will you do once I come with you, Zack? Lock me up for life so I would be subject to Hojo’s abuses again? I’d rather die.” 

Zack sighed deeply when he slowly took the buster sword from his back. He observed it for a moment as though it was yesterday that he had inherited it from Angeal. “We could work on ways to rehabilitate you.” 

“Like you did with the others?” Sephiroth spat in despair. “My friends are dead!”

Zack tilted his head slightly. A sign that he was wired and probably receiving orders from the president who was huddled up behind that steeled door which had been under Sephiroth’s fingertips just moments ago. When Zack’s eyes snapped back to Sephiroth, it was obvious that he had received an order. He switched into his fighting stance, and Sephiroth stared back at his former friend, not willing to believe that Zack was willing to attack him just like that.

The silver-haired man raised his own sword slowly as they began circling in on each other. “I don’t want to do this, Zack. Please don’t make me do this.”

Zack’s eyes flicked up and met Sephiroth’s. Mako burned hot in them, bright green shining through the rich dark blue color that his eyes usually used to be. ShinRa had probably pumped him up to the brink. He would be a tough enemy and the last person on this planet whom Sephiroth wanted to hurt. 

“It is not too late, Sephiroth, we can still stop this,” Zack said these words with the same determination in which he had said everything else, but his eyes were pleading.

It hurt deeply to be forced to make a decision like this, but he had no other choice. “I have gone too far, Zack. I cannot go back anymore…” Their eyes met again and they both knew it was true. “Zack… you can still lay down your sword. You don’t even have to join me. Just let me finish this....”

\----

The moment Zack charged into Sephiroth made it crystal clear that not fighting him wasn’t an option. Perhaps the raven-haired man was hoping to injure his former friend enough so he wouldn’t be able to fight anymore. Sephiroth wondered how long such a fight would last, as he went on to parry his opponent’s blows. Zack fought him fiercely. He was much faster and stronger than he had been when Sephiroth had last fought him, which had been nearly two years ago, and by this time they had just been sparing. He went on to parry while Zack poured all his strength into his blows. 

Blue mako infused eyes burned hotly into green slitted ones, which were hardly able to hide the silver-haired man’s sadness. Cloud had called them winter eyes one night and perhaps he was right about that. Sephiroth kept those eyes locked on Zack’s while he kept parrying his blows until Zack couldn’t take it anymore. “Damn it fight back, Seph! Let’s finish this with honor at least!”

If this was the last connection of camaraderie they could have, could Sephiroth really deny such a request? Zack had meant so much to him after all. And the raven-haired man had certainly only taken this job because he had been persuaded that he would be able to convince his former comrade to stop or immobilize him at least. Sephiroth was confident that the fight wouldn’t last long once he went into the attack. Perhaps he could end this without having to kill his former friend.

“As you wish” was all the former Silver General said as he snapped out of his defensive stance and both men clashed into each other with force.

To his surprise, Zack was harder to handle than he had anticipated. He realized that leaving his defensive stance on his enemy’s terms was not a good idea. Zack was fit and rested and had previously not fought his way up over 60 floors. Sephiroth could still handle him, but he had to watch his timing to not blow it. 

The moment his barrier spell broke, Sephiroth knew that this was about to get serious. He had to step it up or risk losing control over the fight. He searched for Zack’s eyes again, said “I am sorry”, which earned him a glimpse of a confused frown from his opponent. Enough to speed it up and drive Masamune through the other man’s abdomen. A blow not aimed to be deadly, but to immobilize. 

They stood like that for a split second. It still lasted painfully long. Sephiroth withdrew his sword then. Swiftly. There was no reason to prolong Zack’s suffering. He caught Zack’s back as the other man stumbled backward and eased him against the wall, where Zack sank down slowly and came to sit then.

Their eyes met again and Sephiroth now saw the deep distress written all over Zack’s face. “I had to try...”

Sephiroth leaned forward allowing their foreheads to touch. “I know. I am sorry.”

“You have to see it through then,” Zack said weakly, one of his blood-stained hands reaching up in a familiar gesture to almost brush some of his hair out of Sephiroth’s face, but he was too uncoordinated to see it through properly. 

“I know,” Sephiroth said again, forehead still leaning against Zack’s.

“What you have accomplished so far cannot be in vain.” Zack implored.

“By the Gods… I know!” Sephiroth hissed desperately. He rose back to his feet, his eyes meeting Zack’s again. He could not leave him here like that.

“What do you think you are doing?” Zack cried out as Sephiroth cast a healing spell on him.

“Can’t have you bleed to death until they find and collect you,” Sephiroth said sternly, eyes locked with Zack’s again. “This should keep you up long enough so I know you didn’t have to die on me as I went on my way.” 

He turned around on his heel then and positioned himself at a suitable distance from the door. Summoning Aeroga, he had to hold up the spell for several seconds until the door began to bend inwards, and some seconds more to have the hinges finally give in with a loud bang.

Easy. He allowed himself for a split second to look back to Zack and smile warmly, then turned his attention towards the door again, taking a step inside, just to be stopped in his tracks.

The old man was already awaiting him, the golden gun pointed at Sephiroth’s chest.

\----

The bullet went right through him.

It made Sephiroth stumble a couple of steps backward. 

Right… the barrier was down …

When the second bullet hit, instincts kicked in and with a cry of pain, Sephiroth yanked his sword up and drove it through the other man’s chest.

Old ShinRa tried to fire a third bullet but Sephiroth punched the gun out of his hand as he slammed the older man’s body into the wall behind him. “No more games old man. No more games.” He hissed darkly, voice wheezing from the trouble the bullets were giving him, to which the president just laughed, and Sephiroth couldn’t fathom why.

He took a step backward and withdrew his sword. Sephiroth’s eyes burned with contempt as the older man’s body slid down the wall slowly. He was a greedy devil, a warmonger. Countless lives blown out like candles because of him. 

Old Shinra, even in his last moments, stared back into Sephiroth’s eyes as though he was winning. As though he was still an asset that belonged to him, and he would decide when and how he was created. And when he would end. “You are dead, boy.” The old man said with a wide grin as life faded from his body.

Sephiroth frowned. Whatever that was supposed to mean, he could no longer ask the older man. He searched his jacket but found no key card. It couldn’t be. Sephiroth took another look around, but other than the usual equipment, a chair, a desk, drawers for supplies, and monitors that granted a look at the outside world, there was nothing around.

His own coughing was what interrupted him from the search. He took a moment to pause, inspecting himself. He knew that the first bullet had gone right through him, of the second bullet he was not sure. Further, inspection revealed that it had possibly been slowed down by the armored part of his lower torso. He saw no exit signs as he peeked over his shoulder. So the bullet was inside of him now. Great. “Guess I’ll have to retrieve it then when this is over...” he mumbled as he cast a healing spell on himself. 

When he walked back into the main hall where Zack was still leaning against the wall, Sephiroth couldn’t shake the feeling of slight exhaustion. He had anticipated resistance. He had not expected to be shot through the chest by the president himself. Using Zack to throw him off had been a clever move by the president. He had to give him that much. 

Zack beamed him a worried look when he saw him come closer. “He shot you.”

Sephiroth huffed, grinding his teeth. It still stung. “Twice.”

“The bullets went right through you, right?”

“Just the first one.”

“The other is still inside of you then?”

“I won’t cut myself open in the middle of battle to retrieve a tiny bullet, Zack.”

“Have more than ten seconds passed since then?” Zack said with sudden urgency. “Who am I talking to, of course, it was more than ten seconds…”

The worry and distress which the raven-haired displayed were quite confusing. “Relax, Zack, you’re not making any sense right now. I am already healed up. I didn’t lose too much blood.” Sephiroth knelt down next to Zack and decided to better be safe than sorry, so he prepared a new healing spell.

Zack’s hand shot up and grabbed Sephiroth’s wrist suddenly. “You’ll need this on yourself.”

“I have plenty.”

Zack stared back at his friend hauntingly. “No, you don’t.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Zack started fumbling at Sephiroth’s coat as if to make sure that there really were no signs of an exit wound. “That bullet was coated with a new substance. It blocks magic. If the bullet isn’t removed within ten seconds, there won’t be much hope left for your healing spells.”

Sephiroth looked at him blankly. He had no idea how much research had been done while he had been on the run. Then again, he was the most dangerous target ShinRa could ever encounter; and he was working against them now. Of course, they would look for ways to take him down. 

He snapped out of his trail of thoughts when his sensitive hearing picked up shouting somewhere at the very far end of the floor they were currently on.

“Listen to me!” Zack had both hands at Sephiroth’s head now, forcing him to lock eyes with him. “The drug doesn’t go into full effect right away. You still have some… thirty minutes or so before you will be blocked fully. Whatever you wanted to do, you have to do it now and then get the hell out of here.”

“I-...”

The noises were close now, about to round the corner to the room where they were painfully open at display.

Sephiroth felt a sudden, strong push against his chest coming from Zack, who stared at him imploringly.

“Go!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A thousand thanks to writingstarsinthesky for being my Beta (I am not a native speaker) and to Kitzie for looking over my first draft. <3
> 
> If you want to see Sephiroth suffer some more - cause we just got started - I got 30 chapters outlined (the entirety of Part 1), and I plan to update at least once a week. :)


	2. He Wants Revenge Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It gets worse before it gets better.
> 
> This chapter ultimately sets the chore conflict of this story, since Sephiroth's attempt to take down ShinRa won't end too well for him.  
> If you would like to wait for "lighter" chapters, I'd recommend skipping this one.

## 2 HE WANTS REVENGE PART 2

(Reader Playlist: Muse - Algorithm Alternate Reality Version)

  
  


Sephiroth had no reason to doubt the truth behind the words that his former friend had spoken, even though it seemed, in a way, hard to believe. There was no way that ShinRa could have come up with a way to counteract materia induced magic within such a short timeframe. Something that not even Esuna could lift. 

ShinRa must have worked on it for years… they probably were experimenting on it two years ago already, when the Trio had found out that they were supposed to be replaced because of their defiant nature. 

He had wanted to comb through the entire building to make sure that he did not miss out on anything, but being on a clock all of a sudden meant that he had to cut corners. Knowing that he had already destroyed all the compounds in the basements, and he had not really encountered too much of the unusual on the other floors except some smaller labs for some minor experiments here and there, it was a safe bet to assume that most of his work here, excluding the two floors that stored Hojo’s work, was done. 

When he ran up the stairs, Sephiroth had a nasty itch in the back of his head that warned him that it would be safer to check the other floors briefly at least, but there really was no time for that now. He would go straight to Hojo’s labs.

Since the president had been smart enough to not carry a keycard, Sephiroth had to blow the door to the 65th floor open with another Aero spell. He knew that destroying objects that could block him from view made him more open to possible attacks from behind, but he had no other choice if he wanted to advance. 

He saw at once that this place was more heavily guarded than the previous floors. If this was because of the labs, or because the troops had been informed that their enemy could now be worn down once enough forces were thrown his way, remained unknown to him. 

The troopers he encountered here were not only fully armored, they also used bigger guns, firing stronger projectiles. Sephiroth saw his barrier weaken with each bullet it ate. He was forced to move as fast as possible, so he could cut down as many of the troopers for as long as his barrier was still holding. 

Zack had said his ability to cast magic would weaken over time, and Sephiroth did not know how exactly that would play out, but he knew that he had to make the most of it while it still lasted. 

He had to find a keycard somewhere so that he was no longer forced to blast doors open and could instead distribute the energy to cast as many barriers as possible.

Running the situation through in his mind, he considered that there still would be some scientists trying to salvage probes. His moving patterns had been monitored, and his enemy would expect him to comb every room like he had done previously. They might not know yet that Zack had warned him. Therefore ShinRa troops would assume that Sephiroth’s behavior would buy them time to work in the farther back while the silver-haired swordsman was still busy at the front.

So he would set them up for a little surprise. He cast a fresh barrier, realizing with a grunt that Zack was right. The spell settled, but weaker than he had expected. He rounded the next corner then and fast-paced down the corridor. Stepped around another corner then, and was not disappointed. 

A group of scientists, guarded by ShinRa troops, was running to and fro to save whatever was considered worth saving. Sephiroth lowered his head as he got ready to charge. “There you are.”

He burst through the gunfire, ripping shields out of the way as he went. It was a bloody mess and he did not like it. But it was the only way. 

As he cut down the last trooper, he locked eyes with one of the panicked scientists, and it was the second time that day that someone closed a heavy door on him.

Sephiroth huffed, partly annoyed and partly because having to act so swiftly was finally starting to take its toll on him. He had to try twice this time to get the door bent in with storm magic. It was as though the blocker forced him to work double to get the same effect out of a spell.

He stepped inside with long strides and encountered shocked faces. Feral as he was, with the blood of his enemies splattered over his tattered clothes and the urgent expression on his face, he must have looked like a mad man to them. 

Sephiroth wasted no time to step into the man with who he had locked eyes when the door got closed on him. Even though he himself hadn’t been a subject to the labs in a while, he would always know what a head scientist looked like when he saw one. 

Sephiroth grabbed the man by the collar and shoved him against the wall. “Where is Hojo?” He growled darkly, but the other man just shook his head, trembling in fear, avoiding the cold stare of those glowing green, slitted eyes. The man didn’t know, and considering how unpredictable Hojo could be at times, and how terrified the scientist was of him, Sephiroth did not doubt that he was told the truth.

“Your keycard.” Sephiroth demanded now, and when the other man nervously fumbled at his clothes Sephiroth added “any day now!”

The scientist finally found his card and, shaking still, handed it to Sephiroth, who received it with a blood-stained hand. He would burn these clothes once he had made it out of here. If he made it out, that was. 

The silver-haired man knew that they expected him to kill them, now. The room was filled with tanks and probes, and they were the ones responsible. He took a step back, the door behind his back making it clear that nobody would step past him. “Empty your pockets. All of you.”

He saw panicked faces and shaking hands when his demand was followed. Some of the scientists indeed had small vials of what they had considered valuable probes in their pockets, all spilled out on the floor now. Sephiroth regarded them darkly. 

“Toss your keycards over there.” He pointed to a desk with his sword. Each did as they were told. Sephiroth inspected the pile briefly. He picked one card for the whole group and showed it into the leading scientist’s hand. “Leave now.”

Sephiroth waited impatiently for the group to leave the room, and could not avoid feeling tempted to ask the head scientist about the antidote for what was currently rummaging through his system, but was too worried that the man would just point him to something that would just poison him further. 

When Hojo and his work were destroyed, Sephiroth would no longer have to worry about magic anyway. All that mattered now was that this nightmare came to an end. 

He went about destroying every tank that he found, countless fluids spilled to the floor everywhere. He would fry it really good with Thundara, making sure to burn the circuits for the fire extinguishing units, too, and then, well... It all had to burn. 

Sephiroth passed several cabinets with different vials containing different substances on his way. Each of which could be the antidote. The scientists would have stored something here that could counteract the drug in case it was used accidentally, wouldn’t they? They had to. He could as well try. So he picked one of each and let it slide into his pockets. He also collected everything that was needed to make a self-injection. Regarded the needle, innocently wrapped in plastic, with an uneasy feeling in his stomach as he slipped it, too, into his pocket.

Once he passed the next terminal, he lay his collectibles out on the table and used the keycard to unlock the computer. 

Both substances, drug, and antidote, would be something that could resist the effects of the Mako, so this was a factor that he added to his queries as he conducted his search.

He took a look at each vial, looked up the name, and grew more and more desperate with every try. Hardly any of the words listed describing the ingredients or effects of the liquids looked in any way familiar to him. He was no scientist. He had never been taught anything besides basic medical training, in case there was no healing materia at hand and a comrade needed help.

And even though Sephiroth was always interested in reading and learned quickly, the matters of the science department had reminded him too much of something he thoroughly despised, something he did not want to be reminded of. So he had never managed to keep his attention to such matters for long, and he usually went back to reading about battle tactics, politics, history... 

His head hung heavy with regrets as he faced the fact that nothing of that could help him now. He was only wasting his time here. The vials could be anything or nothing, and he lacked the skills to tell it.

Better destroy all of it now, alongside the research documents, then no one would ever be affected by this drug ever again, at least. 

And just like he had planned, he sent a strong Thundara spell across the whole lab and watched with satisfaction how lightning jumped from puddle to puddle, frying electronics, shattering glasses of countless specimens, big and small. It spilled only more liquids all over the floor, which he then fried with another spell, just to make sure that all of it would be done for good.

His final act would be the most satisfying one, one that gave him a feeling of fresh wind and renewed strength. It would be the one to cleanse this place, creating a protective barrier of flames between him and the floors below in the process. The fire was his friend, spending warmth and light, cleansing wrongs, making them right… never betraying him, always fulfilling its promise. It was his last friend truly after everyone else had forsaken him. 

Like a devil straight out of hell, he cast fire left and right as he made his final walk down the hallway, leaving ruin in his wake. There would be no more of this. No more! Not ever again.

He only stopped to look up when a blaring alarm went off all of a sudden. It seemed like some of the sensors had picked up the smoke regardless. He waited for the water to come. The whole hallway toned itself red instead.

And still. No water. The circuits were fried for good. He laughed darkly as he turned around once more, walking backward a few steps as he gazed, eyes shining brightly, at the destruction he had created. How beautiful to watch it burn. To see it all crumble as the flames danced happily, eating it all away, cleansing all of Hojo’s filth; and oh - to entertain the thought that no living soul would ever be held hostage on these very grounds again!

\----

  
  
  


When it hit him from behind it felt like someone was tearing roughly at his armor and coat. He turned around, sirens still blaring too loud to hear properly, the noise suddenly painful in his ears.

His eyes locked with one of the troopers, the man had not been quite dead it seemed.

Sloppy.

The trooper was about to fire again but Sephiroth would not make the same mistake as earlier with the president. He dashed forth swiftly, driving his sword through flesh one more time.

He kicked the rifle out of the other man’s hand then and checked his pulse just to make sure that he was dead for sure. Sephiroth did not like the ways in which he had to handle this situation, but at this point, it was kill or be killed. ShinRa troopers knew what they had signed up for. This didn’t make killing them less bad, but at least he could tell himself that they weren’t unaware that their job could end their lives. 

Just to make sure that nobody else could fall into his back through the dark red smoke and blary noises, Sephiroth went for cover behind one of the giant pillars. This section of the building wasn’t on fire yet. He had planned to speed up the process once he made his way to the stairs, but now he was inspecting his torso instead. Shortly above the SOLDIER armor belt that was slung around his hip was where the bullet had gone through. The trooper had either known what to go for, or he had been lucky. There was no way to tell if this bullet, too, had been coated with the new substance.

Sephiroth just hoped that the drug was special enough to only trust a handful of people with it as he cast another healing spell and saw it have nearly no effect. So he cast another spell and another. Until he believed that it would be enough to keep him going. Cut off portions of his coat and then wrapped it around his torso tightly. This should keep the bleeding at bay for the moment.

He peeked past the pillar, into red light and smoke, and stared into one of the surveillance cameras. If they wanted a show, they could have one.

He limped to the stairs, the pain was really bad this time. Kicked the door open, then cast healing on himself one more time. He peaked over the railing and heard voices from downstairs. The flames would hopefully make the staircase impassable quite soon.

The next floor was the one where Hojo had used to store Mother. She was long gone of course. And further down were countless tubes with poor lost souls in them. He had once wanted to destroy them all, but then he learned that they put real people in there. 

So he went to the next console in sight, ran the keycard through it, shut down the main power supply, and cut off the connection to the reserve generators. This would unlock all of the electronic locks. Giving whoever was down there a fair chance to escape.

\----

  
  
  


When Sephiroth made his way down the hallway of the 66th floor, he could barely walk upright. Dragging his sword behind him, he staggered to the surveillance room and used the keycard to get the door opened. He left bloody trails as he inserted the card into the huge terminal. It was his own this time.

Little as he knew about the science department, he had been very well trained at everything else that could be useful at his “daily business” when he still was with ShinRa. That, too, involved targeting people and how to use the terminals to track someone if necessary. He wouldn’t exactly call it hacking, since it only required one to know how to find the console application and type in the correct commands. In his weakened state, however, even that task proved a bit challenging, and he missed some keys here and there. 

Exhausted he leaned his forehead against the giant screen when it was finally indicated that the search had started. If Hojo was anywhere around the continent, the system would show it. He would find him. His hand went to the wound by instinct, the contact alone made him hiss in pain. He cast another healing spell, but it seemed to have nearly no effect. If Hojo wasn’t here, then he had to get out of here, and soon. Sephiroth allowed himself one more moment to take a breath, while his forehead was still resting against the screen.

And then finally - the screen indicated that there was a match. He looked up, grinding his teeth, ready for the wildest results. But Hojo was on the helideck. That crazy bastard had probably spent every last moment collecting battle data on Sephiroth. The experienced swordsman didn’t even find the words to describe just how much he hated the man.

With a huff, Sephiroth stood upright. Limped for the door then, and down the hallway. Opened the door to the stairs, just to look up and feel dizzy from the sight alone. He was not going to take this path. He leaned against the wall with an exhausted gasp, took another moment to collect himself then, not willing to give up just yet.

He pushed himself from the wall to stand upright again. Behind him blood where he had been leaning against the wall for support just a moment earlier. He did not see it, for that he now was on an approach to get to his final target. 

Sephiroth might not have been able to destroy all of ShinRa’s labs, but at least most of it was in flames now. And if he managed to catch Hojo, then there was hope that the science department would be used in better ways in the future. 

He looked up when something caught his attention. Two large and golden double doors leading to another office of one of the higher-ups or possibly even another one of the president’s offices. The tower most certainly had undergone some changes while Sephiroth had been on the run, and the old president had been famous for his love of extravagant places, owning more than one spot to call home.

Sephiroth kicked the door open only to almost lose his balance once he stumbled into the richly designed office. He extended a shaky hand at the wall next to him, needing yet another moment to breathe and steady himself before he could move again.

The office was a vast space with a huge desk as pompous as the doors that Sephiroth had kicked in, sitting in the very center of it. The leather chair accompanying it looked almost like a modern throne. One that was now defiled by blood and dirt, as Sephiroth slowly sank down to sit in it. Avoiding any sudden movements that could cause him more pain, he searched the drawers but saw only some unimportant paperwork that he tossed on the table. He found expensive cigars and a golden lighter next. Who was he kidding when he thought about how he had hoped to find anything of importance, but a lighter was… it was almost ironic. It would prove a good way to save his last reserves.

He huffed as he made it back to his feet, limped over to the minibar. No potions here, of course, why would the old man have any use for them when he was used to being perfectly pampered all day anyways? Sephiroth turned two of the bottles over, spilling the liquid all over the paperwork on the desk. If even more floors of the building were on fire, before anyone could manage to put it out, perhaps this would be enough to even reach and burn down the floors that he hadn’t managed to comb through.

He found a third bottle containing some of Midgar’s most expensive liquor, stared at it darkly. He did not open the bottle like the others, did not bother to turn it over to empty it, wasn’t even tempted to take a sip. He smashed it into the minibar itself instead, watched how it hit the other bottles. Most of them broke. He stepped back to the table then and took one of the papers to set in on fire with nothing else than the golden lighter.

Oh the irony. Even without his powers, he always found his way back to fire. He dropped the paper on the pile on the desk, where it created beautiful tall flames in an instant, while he tossed the lighter at the minibar and set that, too, on fire.

His legs were slowly giving up on him. It was time to make it to the roof, get rid of Hojo, and then fly back to his hideout where he had stored some tools and potions that he could use to at least stop the bleeding and speed up the healing.

And if none of that would help, he was quite sure that Mother would know a way.

One swift motion of his sword was enough to shatter the huge glass front behind the desk. Countless shards and ashes sailed down like snow all around him as his wing burst into existence at the very same moment. The flames jerked unhappily when a sudden waft of wind made it through the fresh opening, but they persisted. 

Sephiroth regarded the fire with a sinister grin over his shoulder before he jumped through the opening. His wing carried him safely up and further upwards still.

Hojo had only two infantrymen with him when he saw Sephiroth shoot up in the sky, high above them. Like an angel of death, the expression on the feral man’s face was one of cruel victory as he crashed down on Hojo and his men, his sword coming forward with equally as much force to end this one and for all. Just to see it blocked by another’s. Cloud. 

\----

  
  
  


Sephiroth stared back at the blonde in shock. This was wrong. He was not supposed to be here. Considering that Cloud was rested while Sephiroth himself was running on his last reserves, this was the worst possible outcome. “What are you doing here?” was all he managed to say to the blonde.

All Cloud did was glare back at him darkly. “You are not going past me.”

Damn it, he had no time! Sephiroth tried to cast a shockwave past Cloud hoping for it to hit Hojo, or the helicopter, anything, but Cloud blocked it within a split second and deflected it back at the weakened warrior. Sephiroth braced himself as the spell hit him, trying not to get knocked off his feet. He got pushed back anyway, but Cloud did not press the attack for the moment.

Eyes darting frantically between Cloud and Hojo who was about to board the helicopter and only looked back at them with a triumphant grin on his face, Sephiroth raised his voice at Cloud again. He was fighting hard to not sound too exhausted and desperate. “Why are you protecting him?”

“You really don’t know?” Cloud yelled back in anger. There seemingly was nothing left of the warmth Sephiroth had seen in him just a few days ago. There was nothing but rage. “Zack is dead!”

Nausea and noise and the world was about to turn black. Sephiroth fought hard to hold all of this at bay, as stared back at Cloud, wide-eyed. “That’s not true. He was alive when I left!”

“You had to keep one promise and you broke it!”

“Zack was my friend, too!” 

“After all these years, I thought I had finally gotten to know you.” Cloud’s eyes burned hotly as his Mako rose. His whole body language made it abundantly clear that Sephiroth would have to go through him if he wanted to get to Hojo. “Turns out you’re nothing but a manipulative _lying_ piece of shit.”

Hearing those words made Sephiroth wish he could just drop his sword. It hurt more than anything that had been said to him throughout the past years. It was so far from all that he had sacrificed to get to this point, only to see his efforts go in vain, since everyone who mattered to him, everyone who had ever been close to him, was dead.

Except for Cloud. And the blonde was working for the enemy.

When Cloud attacked him, it was without warning. 

He sent blow after blow after blow, each one of devastating strength. Sephiroth saw himself on the defense. He struggled harder with each blow he blocked and this was when it dawned on him that no matter if he tried to fight or escape, Cloud had the upper hand, and he would not let him leave. 

Before long Sephiroth was fighting like a cornered dog. There was no elegance in it anymore. All he did was block Cloud’s blows while the blonde seemed to mock him in the way he moved, strong and without effort, and in the way he stared. As though his eyes said ‘Is that all?’, and Sephiroth despised it.

He hated being glared at like he was a nuisance. An unhappy circumstance. A tool no longer needed and now to be disposed of. 

At this point, Sephiroth understood that he was only postponing the inevitable, so he could as well try to at least dish out some blows at Cloud. Show him that he would not go down without a fight. So he gathered his last strength and went into the fight with all he had left, ignoring the searing pain in his chest. 

The fight became more frantic now. It was obvious that Cloud understood what Sephiroth was going for and wanted to end this, and Sephiroth hated that he was once again reminded how he was not in control. Had he not been wounded without any option to heal himself, the outcome of this fight wouldn’t have been in Cloud’s favor. And the blonde knew that. Hojo had probably saved Cloud for last to make sure that Sephiroth would be stopped before he could take him down. Even if that meant that most of ShinRa would still be sacrificed in the process.

Still, Sephiroth managed to strike back some devastating blows. The fight seemed to come to a halt for a brief second the moment the silver-haired man drew blood from Cloud’s side and the next moment from the youth’s arm. “You can still end this.” he huffed. “You know that I could never kill Zack.”

Sephiroth knew that Cloud heard him well, the blonde just had decided to ignore him as he first touched his side briefly and then his arm. 

“Cloud.” Sephiroth tried again. “You know that I am not lying!”

Cloud just bared his teeth when he heard these words, an act oddly animalistic in comparison to the ways he usually was. He finally looked up again, eyes cold and wild. An expression that Sephiroth had never seen on his face before, at least not directed at him. “This ends now.” the blonde declared as he raised his hand to cast a healing spell on himself. “I’m done playing games.”

Sephiroth braced himself just in time to block the next salve of blows. He saw too late that this was only the starter of an attack much more severe, one he would not be able to evade or block, considering how open he now was. When Cloud went past him, it was obvious that this strike had gone right through. 

Sephiroth saw the ground nearing almost instantly as he went down to one knee. The terrible pain in his middle made it incredibly hard to breathe now. Cloud stood behind him, he saw it from the corner of his eye, waiting to see if his foe managed to get up one more time.

The older warrior used his sword for support to get up for what would likely be his final time.

He turned to Cloud, glaring at him determined, spat blood, then wiped his face with the back of his hand. Went into a fighting stance once more.

Sephiroth was out of options and he realized that he had probably misjudged the blonde. Cloud had wanted to end him the moment he had pursued the chase after the deserted general. And overall this time, his plans had seemingly never changed. Sephiroth had been too blind and foolish, too lonely, to want to see that. He should have listened to Mother. She had never been wrong when it came to judging people. But he had disregarded her advice, just to escape the terrible loneliness he had found himself in, and now he would pay the price.

Cloud’s expression showed that he was done waiting. He jumped at Sephiroth once more, but impaired by his heavy injuries, the older warrior was far too slow to keep up properly.

Sephiroth put everything into one strong final blow, wielding Masamune with both hands.

Cloud met his blade with his own, for a moment they seemed locked together tightly. 

Then, to Sephiroth’s shock, Masamune broke. His body and soul not able to keep the powerful blade together any longer.

He saw the tip of the sword fly past him, understood vaguely that Cloud’s blade 

followed through and cut into him the next instant.

Then, a shockwave from Cloud’s left hand hit him and he fell backward for which felt like an eternity. Until he finally hit the ground.

ShinRa’s former poster boy lay there shattered and defeated, as he saw Cloud step closer, staring down at him, an unreadable expression on the blonde’s face. 

And in the distance... hovering... but out of reach, the helicopter with Hojo in it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A thousand thanks to writingstarsinthesky for being my Beta (I am not a native speaker) and to Kitzie for looking over my first draft. <3
> 
> This chapter wasn't easy to write - to get it from the outline stage into the final stage. But, quite frankly, it had to be done. So here we are. We have almost done it, though. Lighter chapters are on the way as we speak. And Cloud will soon find a way to comfort... a Sephiroth.


	3. Catharsis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the last one of the sad chapters for now.  
> Cloud is still a good guy, he just made a mistake.  
> And he regrets it. Deeply.

## 

(Posted with permission. Source: [Click here for artist's Twitter :)](https://twitter.com/DarkTownArt/status/1333512487958876168?s=20) )

## 3 Catharsis

(Reader Playlist: Minus Sixty One - Woodkid)

(Stretch Your Eyes - Agnes Obel)

  
  


Soft morning light falls through the entrance of a cave. 

A fire; long gone out. 

Two swords lying together, 

like the two bodies next to them, cuddled up in blankets and furs.

Blue eyes meet green ones.

Cloud stares into them,

shining back at him like two green emeralds.

He reaches out to run his hand through silver hair, 

brushes a finger over luscious lips.

Cloud sighs deeply when the other reaches out for him, too.

His hand about to touch. To touch…

\---

Rolled up like a vulnerable animal, curled to a tight ball under his blanket, all that Cloud sees when he opens his eyes is the grey color of the wall next to him. 

His room, a room for rent. As always. Scarce except for an old wooden chair and a desk. A cabinet to store his clothes. A lonely sorry-looking plant sitting on the desk. The buster sword leans against the wall. 

He stands in the shower, head hanging low, hands at the wall for support. The water is too hot, running down his back, steaming. It seems only hot enough to make Cloud feel some warmth, any warmth at all. 

He doesn’t dry himself after the shower. Stands by the window instead, brushes the curtain aside enough so he can peak into the early morning light. 

Cloud sees nothing when he looks outside. 

He closes his eyes, thinking of what it would feel like to have him stand behind him now. How he would lean into him as the other wrapped his arms around him, how he would turn his head to the side and then reach for him.

But there is no one. Cloud is alone.

Once he is dressed, all in black, he picks up his sword, balancing it carefully on both of his hands. It is precious. He looks at it for an eternity, it seems before he finally makes for the door.

\---

Stepping outside, the familiar sight of the slums approaches him like a scene in slow motion. He walks narrow paths, makeshift stores left and right, built out of metal and wood from what the richer folks have tossed away. Most of the regular stores are still closed at such an early hour, but some of the food stands are already open. 

People know him here. They greet him. Some shout his name and wave. He nods back, not really seeing, not really hearing anything at all. 

He is here and he is not...

A spark of light catches his eye. It comes from a sword displayed in a small window of a currently closed store. The katana shaped blade with a dark handle reminds him of a different one, but the one he thinks of was bloody and broken, and a bloody hand took it, shaking, only to shove it into Cloud’s hand.

Cloud had held on to it, reluctantly. Kneeling next to the man who had once meant everything to him. He knew what Sephiroth wanted him to do, but he could not bring himself to move. Not even for an inch.

Sephiroth’s hand shot up suddenly, holding Cloud’s head, forcing him to lock eyes with him, forcing him to stare back into those haunting green eyes of his and, with the last bit of his strength, made Cloud see flashes of memories, of the labs, of Hojo, of all of it at once. With sudden urgency, Cloud understood why Hojo could not get his hands on the silver-haired man ever again.

Sephiroth guided Cloud’s hand to his chest. They lowered the blade together.

It was a painfully long moment. He felt Sephiroth’s grip tighten at both, the back of his head and over his own hand as they both kept pushing down the broken sword. Their eyes were locked the whole time. No chance to escape.

Cloud looks up, startled by a movement. The ravens are sitting on the pipes again. They regard him curiously. Cloud stares at their beautiful black feathers and thinks to himself how free they must be. What he would give to trade with them. He would give anything to be free, to not think of those haunting eyes ever again, and the way they looked back at him, as the two men pushed down the sword together. All the way...

Cloud stopped moving when he saw the silver-haired man cough up blood. He did not want to do this. Couldn’t they just heal him up and find another way? Please oh please… he knew that he was crying. Sephiroth shook his head, staring back at Cloud gravely and Cloud just couldn’t break his hand free. The older warrior was guiding Cloud’s hand again and Cloud could do nothing to stop it. How could Sephiroth be so strong, even in death?

When they took the final step together, and the sword finally drove through fully, Cloud’s cry was a desperate howl. Shaking violently, with tears running over his cheeks, he stared into the other man whose eyes were burning so full of determination. Taking the pain like the soldier that he was. Cloud held on to the feeling of Sephiroth’s hands on him, of knowing that the other was alive for just a moment longer.

Until those hands slowly slipped from him, and Cloud knew that these were his former friend’s last moments. Those haunting, green eyes that had burned into Cloud’s just moments prior they seemingly lost focus. Sephiroth stared into the sky as his body went limp in Cloud’s arms. The experienced warrior looked peaceful all of a sudden, happy almost when he raised his hand one final time to reach out to something invisible in the sky.

Engulfed by green tiny stars, up and up his body went to join the Lifestream. Cloud fell forward when the weight suddenly was taken from his arms. He didn’t want Sephiroth to leave but there was no way to stop it, now. Crying desperately he stared into the sky, alone and forsaken.

When he looks up now, he sees only the plates of the upper city. 

Cloud then locks eyes with one of the ravens. The bird tilts its head sideways in a curious manner, and then, as though it knew what it was doing, drops a single black feather. Cloud stares. The raven still looks back at him with those curious, intelligent eyes. 

Cloud then finally takes a step forward, picks up the feather, and wonders if such things as spirit animals exist.

He watches the raven as it kicks up into the air and reunites with its friends.

_Why did I never grow a wing?_ Cloud wonders.

Sephiroth, Angeal, and Genesis. They all had had wings, he knew that for a fact. Just like he knew that all of them had been forced to expose themselves sooner or later. 

Zack was the only one about whom Cloud was not sure. Hojo had experimented quite a lot on the raven-haired man in the end. It had started after Zack was called back to headquarters while the others had to stay in the trenches of Wutai War. It had simply been referred to as a new treatment and Cloud had assumed that the scientists were looking for ways to make their strongest creations less defiant against ShinRa.

When Cloud had finally seen Zack again a few months later, it was obvious that the treatments had left their mark on the formerly so light-hearted man. 

On the surface, Zack was still Zack, but he seemed distant on the inside. And he no longer tried to fight back whatever orders were given to him. It seemed like he had just given up.

All these never-ending thoughts. Just to muse about the dread of feeling lonely, of not being like the others. Of wanting to be an abomination, but free. Able to fly wherever he wanted. Not being held back by the laws of the earth that every bipedal being had to obey.

He finds it quite mind-boggling how, even after over a year has passed since his hunt after the former Silver General has come to an end, and Cloud finally struck him down, he still finds himself longing, suffering. 

Cloud feels empty, left alone, and broken - and without purpose. Taking the path of revenge had solved exactly nothing. It only left him even lonelier and it had left him empty-handed.

Cloud had deserted ShinRa the moment he saw Sephiroth’s body dissolve into the sky, joining the Lifestream. Now, all that is left is a fraction of Sephiroth’s memory; pictures of some disturbed and scary things done to him in the lab; and the vision of his haunting green eyes that keeps Cloud wide awake at night. 

It had suddenly become crystal clear to the blonde that he has so many questions that only the experienced warrior could have answered. But Sephiroth is gone. Not one day had passed to which Cloud had not asked himself if his death could have been avoided. 

Ironically enough, ShinRa had not come after Cloud when he left. He sometimes wondered why. He had often enough been in close vicinity to the Turks, but it seemed that whenever their paths crossed, the Turks had turned a blind eye on him.

If he didn’t know it better he could have sworn that their leader, Tseng, had nodded at him once before he stepped into his helicopter.

So Cloud had taken this chance to, for the first time of his life, try to find his own purpose. His path led him to the slums of Sector 7 where he ran into his old friend Tifa. She introduced him to her friends and he had been running various mercenary jobs since then. He also had helped out whenever help was needed. Anything to not make him think about what had happened, anything to help him forget.

How haunting it could be when you wanted to forget but couldn’t...

Technically, one could say that Cloud’s life isn’t half bad — if it wasn’t for the dreams and the steady feeling of guilt that creeps deep down in his chest, he could almost call himself somewhat happy. 

_Speaking about distractions,_ he thinks to himself as he is walking the streets, _it is Wednesday, right?_

Wednesday is a special day to Cloud since his favorite store usually restocks then. They sell swords, guns and armor and recently have been offering selected pieces of insane quality. Which is exactly the reason why everybody wants them. Despite the price tag. Whoever is making those pieces knows how to acquire rare materials - and how to smith.

So far, Cloud has managed to buy one ridiculously well-crafted chest plate that he was planning to wear on the more dangerous jobs. He is quite certain that it will protect him well. It also looks way too beautiful to wear it all too often, to risk that it could get dirty in any kind of way. So he keeps it in his locker and every now and then, he takes it out to admire it. Looking at it gives him a calm feeling. Just spending time swiping away even the faintest hints of dust makes him feel infinitely serene.

Cloud is dying to see what is up for offer this time - and what he probably cannot afford. Last time he was there the merchant had a fantastic sword on display, its tag only reading “Twin Stinger”. It seems to be well balanced for fighters and magic users alike and can potentially slot even more Materia than the best sword he currently owns, which would be the Buster Sword. 

When he rounds the next corner, still caught in his thoughts, fantasizing about the sword he so much desires to call his own, he suddenly notices a movement at the far end of the narrow street. It comes paired with a feeling of a strong pull somewhere in his stomach. 

Cloud stops in his tracks. As though he had walked into an invisible wall. 

Stares. Narrows his eyes. Focuses.

But all he can see is a flash, an idea of silver hair disappearing behind a corner of the nearly empty street. He blinks. Once. Twice. 

And wonders…

… Just how powerful feelings of guilt may be…

Can they make a man see things?

And now there is this pull again. Was Cloud resisting it earlier when he came to a sudden halt? Is it a sign? Should he follow it? What if he went into that alley and found nothing, then? Would he give in, finally? Call himself “Cloud the mad man”?

And what if he actually found something, someone there? What chance could there be? Even Hojo would not be able to pull someone out of the Lifestream. Yet, still… Cloud needs to know. He needs to know...

His legs are already setting themselves into motion and he walks towards the small back alley that crosses the far end of the street. Still feeling that pull in his stomach like he was actually getting closer towards, towards...

He approaches the corner warily, knowing this alley leads towards a dead end. There could be literally anything... anyone lingering behind it - or no one at all. 

Cloud holds his breath for a moment, when he is about to round the corner, expecting to find, to find…

“Hey Cloud!”

Cloud yelps making a jump backward, instinctively reaching for his sword, just to drop his hand at once when he realizes who it is. “Aerith…”

He had been so focused that he did not notice her at all until she actually spoke to him.

“What are you doing around here this early?” Aerith says in a cheery tone. Cloud notes with a mild hint of irritation that she is sort of blocking his way.

“Woke up early. I, uh... need to check on something.” He takes her by the shoulders gently and moves her slightly sideways so he can step past her. 

The small alley is empty. 

What did he expect? Cloud looks around, frustrated, eyes even darting upwards to check the rooftops. Nothing. He sighs. Gotta do something about his lack of sleep, he is clearly seeing things.

“Did you find what you were looking for?” Aerith’s voice says behind him, and he recognizes her teasing undertone. It is a friendly tease, though.

“Actually…” He turns around to face her. She looks at him with her huge green and expectant eyes, so he continues. “You know what… I wanted to go to that merchant early today...”

“You mean the one that is selling all the equipment everyone has been making such a fuss about, lately?” She smiles brightly as she speaks, the obvious ‘I get it now’ in her expression remaining unspoken.

“Yes, that one… I wanted to see what’s new…” He sets himself into motion again, gesturing at her that she is invited to come along.

She follows and finishes his sentence for him. “...And then cry once more because you can’t afford that Twin Stinger sword?”

She’s lucky that she’s walking behind him, or else she would see with how much annoyance Cloud rolls his eyes. “You are just as broke as me, Aerith!”

“I am not spending all my money on fancy equipment, though.”

They quickly reach the storefront which already has a small group of people waiting. Cloud sighs. No matter what he does, for as long as this store will be stocked by this new smith, there will probably always be a line.

He comes to a halt at the end of the line, crossing his arms over his chest, huffs irritated. “Right, you just happen to find a bunch of fancy Materia and magical staves all the time.”

She has indeed been collecting a lot of fancy things lately whenever she goes about on her rounds, wherever they take her. So she better doesn’t deny it! It still puzzles Cloud how Aerith seems to find all of that equipment so easily, while he himself has to pay that much Gil to get to his own equipment.

“What can I say? I got the skills.” She says and strikes a proud smile.

“You could share every now and awhile.”

“Does that mean you are not happy with the Elementary Up Materia that I got you the other day?”

“Fine, I’ll give you a pass on that one.”

  
“Isn’t that ever so generous of you!” 

They both turn around when the doors finally open and the group of customers floods into the store to inspect the new wares eagerly. It seems that this delivery contains a bunch of very well crafted armor pieces and some smaller blades. But nothing can compare to what Cloud’s eyes linger on now: the Twin Stinger mounted to the wall behind the counter.

“I need to find a job that pays well… like.. tremendously well…” He murmurs frustrated.

“Or you could just settle for one of the less expensive blades.”

“That’s not the same.” Being poor sucks. At moments like these even more than usual.

And unlike everything else, this blade speaks to him. Just like the armor piece that he has so carefully stored away in his locker. Cloud sees no other way to possibly explain why he wants that blade that much if, technically, the Buster Sword is fine and will always hold a special place in his heart. But the Buster Sword is also tainted...

Cloud twitches when he feels Aerith’s elbow in his side glares at her, then realizes that his phone is buzzing. He reaches for it absently, his eyes finding their way back to the sword on the wall almost instantly. “Hey, Tifa…”

Despite his distraction, Cloud catches something about “...Wall Market tonight…? Oh, and, is Aerith around?”

“She is actually standing right next to me.” He says, his mind only half absent this time.

“Ask her if she would like to come, too.” Tifa is smiling on the other end, he can hear it.

He relays the question almost like on autopilot. 

“Tonight…? I am sorry… I’ve got some work to do, you know?”

“Oh…” He shares the information with Tifa.

Tifa sounds like she is doing her best to hide her disappointment. Finds a way to hold on to her cheery tone then anyway. “So it is just the two of us, then?”

Cloud’s mind finally kicks back into full gear. Quickly turning the offer over in his head. Well… a distraction could actually be a good idea. “Works for me. See you later.”

  
  


\---

Wall Market. The entertainment district and the name is to be taken literally since the place has been surrounded by walls since Cloud can remember. An attempt from the government to contain its “filth”. However, there are more than one ways to enter this place. They are usually shown by a friend of a friend, who shows it to a friend, who then shows it to a friend, and so on, and so forth. How such stories go. 

And the government hasn’t really bothered to do anything about that. Erecting the wall seemed to be enough. And now everyone is just coexisting. To be fair, walking the streets of Wall Market used to be a lot more dangerous in the olden days. Not really for someone like Cloud, of course, but for ordinary people, hanging out in the wrong corners of this district could very well mean being stripped of all their belongings if they were not careful.

These times seem to be forgotten though, muses Cloud as he orders some ramen for himself and Tifa. It’s a new place that opened recently. Like everywhere else in the slums, the huts are still made of metal and wood, but they now look much cleaner and in better condition. 

“Thanks for showing me this place,” Cloud says happily as they both sit down with their bowls at one of the benches outside. “It seems nice.”

“That’s because the district is under new management.” She says, tending to her ramen. 

“Oh?”

“Haven’t you heard?”

“I haven’t been here much lately.” He does not add how the last times he was here were under quite different circumstances. Too much about this place reminds him of his old friends, who are all gone now. Seeing the red lanterns that illuminate most of the district is usually what triggers an unhappy feeling of remembrance in his stomach.

She plays with her food, in thoughts. “Well, I must admit that I was a little surprised that you agreed to come... here. Anyways. The Don is no longer running this place.”

Cloud rests his gaze on her warm brown-red eyes as she speaks. Wondering what else he has missed while he was keeping his days busy with work, spending lonely sleepless nights at his motel room otherwise…

“So who is running it now?”

“The Madame M.”

“That’s an improvement then, I guess? How did you come to know her anyway?”

Tifa finally looks like she is actually about to start eating her ramen. “Aerith introduced us.”

“Really?”

“Uhuh.”

“Hmm…”

“‘Hmm’, Cloud?” Tifa repeats, smiling a warm smile as she tilts her head sideways.

“She doesn’t strike me like the type of person who would be working around here.” He says dryly and Tifa laughs.

“Aerith has known this place long before you or me. It was only a matter of time until she would sell her flowers here.”

“Oh…” says Cloud “...right.”

“Right.” She laughs.

\---

That ramen place really was something else. 

Cloud feels stuffed. In a good way! 

He can’t keep his eyes off of everything that seems to have changed as he walks with Tifa. The storefronts are in so much better condition now. The materials acquired are clearly of better quality than the old ones, even though it is still metal and wood in essence. Everything got freshly painted, too. Some of the establishments which used to house in tents have since gotten their own huts.

The district has also stocked up on its lanterns- and old ones were replaced or repaired. It all seems friendlier now. With fewer dark corners for shady people to hide in. Safer. He likes it.

It makes him happy to see that good can be done. If you just let the right person handle the matters, even a place like this could improve over time. 

Makes one wonder if meanwhile, the walls are really there to protect the city from Wall Market, or if they protect the market from the city...

There...

There it is again!

His head snaps up when he feels it.

Did he just see long silver hair and black leather pass another corner?

_Oh Cloud, you have to find ways to sleep!_ He thinks by himself. _This is not healthy._

But there it is again!

He is already on the hunt. Followed it already before he could even argue with himself if he actually should. It is quite crowded here. Small steps, on a narrow path. Many lanterns above, suddenly adding to the overcrowded feeling. And _he_ towers over everyone. 

_How can this be?_ Cloud wonders. Working hard to get forward faster. But the crowd is so dense here, and he can’t push them all out of the way. People are already staring, some of them complaining. Should he call the other man’s name? And make a fool of himself just in case it is somebody who just looks very much like _him_...?

Cloud grinds his teeth when he almost runs someone over who is much shorter than him. Forced to look away for just a second to hastily apologize, and then, as he looks up again. “... of course you’re gone!” 

Frustration.

He fights his way forward, straining to look past people, but he can’t see _him_ anymore. _Why are you gone again? I almost had you, you were so close..._

Maddening.

And then, as though it was responding, he feels the pull again. It makes him turn to the right. The colosseum. He vaguely remembers that place. 

Sees an announcer shout at the door, praising their new program. “Come in people! Come in!”

And Cloud, looking around for the first time, finally realizes that he has lost Tifa, but he streams inside with the wave of the crowd already. The pull dragging him towards the same direction. Like they were all one, it just flows naturally …

He holds on to the feeling of the pull, scared to lose it again, it makes his body run on autopilot while he stays focused. The source... _he_ might be amongst the crowd. Amongst the people who are about to watch the show. There is a man talking to him now. Cloud stares at him. No weapons allowed inside. 

They will store his sword for him safely. The man points at a cage out of visitor’s reach that already holds a bunch of swords and other weapons. It gives Cloud an uneasy feeling since the man is asking him to hand over his Buster Sword after all. But then again… he has to see the source of this… pull.. this … whatever this is. Or else he will surely go insane.

He nods slowly, then reaches for his back and hands the man his blade. Suppresses a chuckle when he sees that the other clearly has issues carrying the heavy sword. Right. It will most certainly be useless to anyone who doesn’t possess SOLDIER strength. So Cloud probably doesn’t have to worry that anyone would steal it.

The colosseum is a huge place. He clearly underestimated its size when he walked inside. It fits so many people that even with Cloud’s enhanced senses it would take a while to find someone. Cloud realizes that he is now blocking the way for some of the other visitors. Would be bad to be kicked out because he looked like trouble.

So he makes his way and takes a seat further back. Excited people and chatter all around him. He is not listening. 

And when the announcers step on stage down in the colosseum, Cloud is still not listening.

He calls out to the source again in his mind.

_Where are you? Talk to me._

And he gets hit by what feels like another response. 

…

Longing. 

Yes, that’s how he would describe it. He knows this feeling all too well after all. Cloud looks straight, towards where it feels the strongest, scans the crowd but sees nothing out of the ordinary. Calls out again, and again it seems to be coming from somewhere right in front of him, stronger now. _Why can’t I see you…_

On stage, the announcers mention some lore in regards to recent colosseum fights. The crowd roars excited. And all Cloud can think of, as he stares into nothingness like a madman, is that he has to find the source. In his mind, only one question persists.

_Where are you?_

_Where are you…?_

_Where are you…_

He feels it grow stronger each time he repeats the question in his mind and he realizes that he has to dive deeper into a place somewhere in the back of his mind. He lowers his head, closes his eyes. His thought is almost said aloud.

_Where_

_Are_

_You_

It hits him with a strength he had not seen coming. Makes him dizzy. 

Cloud holds his head, blinking. 

His eyes get pulled up suddenly. He stares at the stage, not knowing if he is awake or dreaming. Black leather, but it is a jacket. Black pants and gloves… but it reminds him of a biker’s outfit. A katana like blade fit to a belt at the man’s right side. Long silver hair in a ponytail sitting low on his back. Green slitted eyes and a wide grin over his face as the announcers say something that indicates that he is an unbeaten champion… and one fighting here because apparently, it is fun to him.

The man looks like the spitting image of Sephiroth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A thousand thanks to writingstarsinthesky for being my Beta (I am not a native speaker) and to Kitzie for looking over my first draft. <3  
> .  
> Guys, we are almost there!  
> And you know what that means, right?  
> Sassyroph in chapter 4! ;B


	4. He's My Collar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sassyroph is here.  
> I hope you enjoy reading him as much as I enjoyed writing him!

  
  


(Posted with permission. Source: [Click here for artist's Twitter :)](https://twitter.com/DarkTownArt/status/1331129796319965185?s=20) )

## 4 He’s My Collar

(Reader Playlist: Volcano Live - Woodkid Official (Youtube) 

This version is 2 minutes longer and has awesome drums. 

And the bass fucks.)

Cloud cannot tell if the mood in the arena has changed, or if his ability to comprehend his surroundings is impaired too much by the shock that is running hot through his system. But he can tell for sure that the lights have darkened and that bass-heavy music with dominant drums is filling the whole place. 

If he wouldn’t know better, Cloud would be tempted to think that they were at an expensive nightclub with a fancy stage program, rather than at a colosseum where people fought for glory, sometimes for their lives.

The crowd around him shouts excited while Cloud sits frozen in his seat. Unable to take his eyes off of the man down there in the arena who seems to just vibe to the music while the crowd is in awe. 

His brain processes way too slowly. He realizes now that the silver-haired man isn’t dressed all in leather-like Cloud is used to seeing him. The black pants are actually jeans, torn here and there, his shoes are black military boots, tied half-ass. The only belts he wears are the one for his pants and the one holding the sheath of his sword, and the only other thing made of leather seems to be his black gloves.

And his black biker jacket… well. It is closed halfway, exposing a black shirt with a V neck… partially showing his chest. So the way in which he wears his clothes hasn’t changed that much. In so far that term even is applicable since Cloud doesn’t even know if the man down there really is the Sephiroth he knew or one of _them_. 

Cloud’s mind is racing. It isn’t possible to bring people back from the Lifestream. He knows this for sure. But the silver-haired man in the arena… Is he one of Hojo’s experiments that just looks the part? If yes, why does ShinRa allow him to roam free like that? Same reason why the Turks aren’t coming after Cloud? But Sephiroth would be so much more valuable to Hojo than Cloud could ever be. Letting him out of their sight to do however he pleases doesn’t seem like something that Hojo or ShinRa ever would allow.

Cloud’s mind has been too absent to realize how the large double doors to the arena were opened. Giving way for a man who looks the part of an experienced warrior.

He carries a fancy looking blade and is eager for a duel. He calls out to his opponent to fight him, but Sephiroth seems unimpressed. 

Cloud watches how Sephiroth doesn’t even bother to draw his blade. A gesture that clearly offends his enemy, who calls out to him repeatedly to fight him finally. But Sephiroth just grins back at him and only moves to evade his opponent, who tries to land blow after blow, but fails each time. 

It is a step sideways here, an evasive move with his torso there. When Sephiroth spins around once, Cloud sees the amused expression on his face. He is just enjoying himself, and it is driving his opponent mad.

And Cloud is transfixed. 

Everything else happening in the arena has withdrawn itself from his senses. He recognizes the cheering crowd somehow, the bass and drums of the music are bellowing through his body, and all he sees, all he is with, is the silver-haired man down there.

It all ends suddenly. 

Sephiroth has decided that he has had enough. The fight is over.

He has found the perfect opening as his opponent tries to land a ferocious stroke. Sidesteps it and rams the handle of his sword into the other man’s belly hard enough to make him tumble to the ground.

Sephiroth places one foot on the downed fighter’s back, keeping him pinned to the floor this way. Posing like this, he looks up, eyes burning brightly, while the crowd screams and shouts. 

Cloud shivers when the silver-haired warrior in the arena raises his voice. For some reason managing to be heard clearly despite the loud music and the screaming crowd. It sounds strong and firm and ...bossy?

“Is that all?”

Sephiroth stares at a place obviously reserved for VIPs. Clearly addressing the new district manager and owner of the arena, Madame M. He shakes his head with another grin just before he raises his voice again. 

“I do not wish to insult you, lady. But I came here for a challenge tonight, and you are wasting my time with a man who doesn’t even know how to hold a blade?”

Cloud registers that his voice sounds slightly different from what he remembers. Not as low pitched. It has a sassy edge to it. It is his, yet it isn’t.

And seeing someone like him ask for a challenge - and that at a place like this? 

They could throw their strongest monsters at him and he would barely break a sweat. Still, he is down there asking for more? 

And if he is an unbeaten champion… then it should be very well known that there are nothing and no one that could be of any real danger to him. So why bother trying to fight him?

Unless, of course… The price for beating him would have to be offensively high to make people want to take a shot at it.

Cloud faintly remembers that an amount of money had been mentioned by the announcers. Several million Gil...

Cloud registers movement down in the arena. 

As though the experienced warrior’s request for a bigger challenge was heeded, the gates open, and two giant robots, a Cutter and a Sweeper, enter the stage. Accompanied by a fully armored master with a huge sword. 

In the arena, Sephiroth cocks his head sideways as though to judge if those enemies are worth his time. Both robots are already charging him when he finally draws his sword. His whole demeanor is still provoking and bossy.

Sephiroth focuses on the smaller robot first and ignores its partner and the master for the moment. 

Cloud notices that his fighting style and stance are different from what he is used to seeing. This man, this version of Sephiroth, uses mostly both hands to fight with his blade, a katana of normal size. The man Cloud used to know would have fought using his left hand mainly, and the sword of his choice would be much bigger. The man down in the arena uses his body to extend his reach instead. 

Wearing no armor means that he can use his mobility to his advantage. It also means that he cannot afford to be struck.

So whenever the robots or their master try to reach for him, Sephiroth either parries or dodges out of the way and focuses his attacks on the smaller machine instead. He is mocking the armored guy, Cloud realizes. By showing him how it won’t help him to come in as a group against one. 

Sephiroth keeps to his tactics until the smaller robot is down. Simply takes a step backward to avoid the explosion of the fallen machine. Spreads both arms widely for a moment, clearly addressing the cheering crowd, vibing to the drums. Then he dashes into the bigger robot and hacks away. 

And when that one has fallen, too, he takes the liberty to strike a pose and point his sword at the robot’s master. The crowd roars again. Sephiroth grins widely. “Didn’t go that well for you, Tin Can.”

The man in his armor seems to be a mixture of fear and anger. He bellows back some upset words in regards to Sephiroth’s disrespect towards him. 

“You tried to fight me three to one and now you are complaining about my manners?” Sephiroth retorts, still grinning. “This is your last chance to run.” 

Tin Can’s eyes dart around nervously, he knows that he is not going to win, but not trying to fight would harm his reputation even worse. Honor is still a thing, even down here in the arena of Wall Market’s colosseum. 

So, with an almost desperate battle cry, he attacks the silver-haired devil.

At least Sephiroth uses his sword this time, but it is obvious that he is way more agile than the man in his heavy armor. However, the armor means that Sephiroth’s blows have to be delivered with precision. A normal blade wouldn’t cut through. His blade is capable, Cloud notices. But it can get stuck easily if Sephiroth doesn’t time it right. 

And timing it right he does. Each blow cutting off a piece of the armor, with Sephiroth vibing to the drums after each successful stroke. Humiliating his enemy even more, since he demonstrates that he doesn’t even need to watch his back for the entirety of the fight. 

Tin Can’s best accomplishment is landing blows that get parried or evaded elegantly by his enemy. He grows more and more desperate every moment, and it seems like Sephiroth has reached the limit of his patience. No longer entertained by the dismantling of his enemy and his armor, he says, “Enough.” As he prepares a strong blow the moment the other charges at him.

It is one swift stroke and the other one is disarmed.

“Didn’t even break a sweat.” Sephiroth exchanges another look with the man, who is huffing in his heavy and half-destroyed armor. 

The experienced warrior grins even wider when he sees the other’s eyes flick to his sword on the ground and back to him. He chuckles, his face clearly betraying a “ _you better don’t try this”_ expression. 

Sephiroth lifts his own sword until it is resting on his shoulder, he takes a step forward then and kicks the fallen sword playfully - into the other man’s direction. “You are boring me. Leave now.”

And his opponent indeed picks up his sword hastily and runs. Runs for the large double doors that lead to the arena. Runs despite parts of his armor falling off as he does so. 

Sephiroth laughs. 

The crowd loses its shit. 

He vibes to the drums some more. 

Cloud thinks that the silver-haired man loves dancing. He then thinks how unlike the man down there is like the Sephiroth he knew. And at the same time he is so much like him that it scares him. As though someone had taken off the weight that had always been on Sephiroth’s shoulders. Replaced it with something else. Creating someone who has never been burdened with all the hardships that ShinRa and Hojo had imposed on him.

Sephiroth looks at the VIP area again. Tilting his head, raising an eyebrow. Sword still resting on his shoulder, he spreads one arm as if to say _“so?”_

He is so deeply amused that Cloud starts to think that, to the experienced warrior, this truly is the same as going dancing is to other people. He dances with the sword instead.

\---

  
  


And like his request for an even stronger opponent was once again heeded, the ground seems to be shaking now, as something is pulled up into the arena from a large round trap door right in its center. 

Cloud knows this monster. It is a house possessed by a poltergeist. With robotic looking arms and a head sticking out of its sides and front. Back in the days, when they were freshly Mako enhanced, Zack and Cloud used to fight those for training. They were fun if you timed your attacks right. A careful balance of swordplay and elementary spells. All you had to mind for then was to avoid getting sucked in through the door and well, eaten.

This one, however, seems to be different. He can’t quite put his finger on it...

And Sephiroth has turned his back to it. His attention lies on the cheering crowd. Spreading his right arm wide while his left one still has the sword resting on his shoulder. This gesture seems so out of place to Cloud, regarding the enemy whom the silver-haired man is going to fight now.

“Midgar!” Sephiroth shouts, and the crowd screams back in excitement.

“Shall I begin?” More excited shouts from the stands, while the house behind him opens its door, and Cloud thinks stressed how this would be the right moment for Sephiroth to evade. But the house, instead of making an attempt to suck him in, spits out three Tonberries instead.

So they found one of those. One of the stronger ones. That one could pose a problem even to Mako enhanced fighters. Especially when they are going in solo.

Sephiroth looks over his shoulder at the tiny green-skinned, slowly moving creatures. Waddling towards him with their knives and lanterns in their small hands. His eyes seem to say “ _Fantastic!”_ And then he dashes into them, taking care of all three of them with one powerful sweep of his blade. 

So he knows that he cannot attack those tiny creatures with magic. _That’s good_ , Cloud thinks, then realizes that he doesn’t want to see him lose. No matter if he is really Sephiroth, or someone who just looks like him, a part of Cloud needs to see him win as if his own life depended on it. 

Needs to see him being strong and prevail, as though the sight of that alone was enough to help heal that crippling wound that Cloud has been carrying with him for way too long.

He watches as Sephiroth pressures the house. His strong and swift movements. The way in which he evades the blows and seems to attack it from the side or behind in all the right moments. And the way in which he disposes of yet another group of Tonberries.

The silver-haired warrior finally seems to be really invested in the fight. His eyes are still on his target when the house shakes violently, then sets off the ground to jump onto one of the terraces, from where it cascades an inferno of burning chairs. Sephiroth slices them apart with his blade, then casts a potent water spell to counter the house's own fire magic.

Cloud makes a mental note that this one knows how to cast spells. Even though it is something that he had expected him to be capable of. 

To nobody’s surprise, the house now produces a set of rockets from its backside and sets off to fly through the arena, circling its opponent. Sephiroth still has his eyes on it, as he turns slowly to not let it out of his sight. _Of course, it flies_ , his eyes seem to say. Then he casts two more spells the monster’s way. 

The spells seem to be strong enough to send the house tumbling down back into the arena. It looks quite beaten, and Sephiroth is once again vibing to the music and crowd’s cheer, but Cloud sees that the monster is only getting ready to set off to a deadly charge.

Cloud knows this type. They are dangerous. And he can’t tell how much strength the silver-haired warrior down there in the arena possesses. If he is not _him_ … if he is just someone whom Hojo made to look _like_ him… one of _them_. The ones mentioned in the war. The ones intended to replace the Firsts back then...

Cloud finds himself jumping to his feet, walking past people, standing at the railing suddenly, staring.

Hellhouse charges. And Sephiroth makes no attempt to dodge. _This isn’t going to end well,_ Cloud thinks in a sudden wave of worry. Even Cloud himself would evade that charge, it would also be the perfect opening to hit the monster from the side… Why isn’t he moving?!

\---

  
  


Sephiroth’s head spins around suddenly. He stares right at Cloud. Directly into his eyes. Is it shock? Fear? Anger? Cloud cannot tell. But there is a knowing. A recognition of the other in those bright green shining orbs.

Cloud stares back, unable to move. Feeling this strong wave of different emotions washing over them both and bouncing back and forth between them. This is exactly what makes the silver-haired man lose focus for just a split second too long. Enough time for Hellhouse to reach him finally. Cloud cries out innerly, Sephiroth reacts out of a reflex, casts a shock wave so strong and swiftly as Cloud has never seen it done before.

It hits the monstrous house with such a force that it gets catapulted upwards and slams through the ceiling. And even then it gets catapulted on… and upwards into the nightly sky. It would be almost comical if Sephiroth’s face didn’t betray that this wasn’t planned… this wasn’t planned at all. He had come here to enjoy himself and now he has exposed too much of his power. The feeling gets transmitted to Cloud as crystal clear as though he was standing next to the other man and he would just tell him. Nothing is shielded. Nothing is hidden.

  
Cloud stares in awe. It is almost too much to handle. So much power, so much force. Where is all of this coming from? Is it his own energy? Is it the others? Are they sharing, intermingling even? He can’t tell.

The crowd still roars excited all around the blonde. Obviously thinking that this was part of the show, while Cloud knows that it is not. 

He sees and feels a new impulse from the silver-haired man down in the arena. He is tense and almost nervous as he turns around and scans the crowd. Cloud feels like the hunter and the hunted. Both at once. And he... 

Sephiroth looks back to stare at Cloud once more. What is radiating from him is again almost too much for Cloud to handle. It is too many things at once. Cloud tries to sort them somehow while the older warrior walks backward, crossing the arena until he has reached the large double doors, making it seem like he is staging his exit, while in truth… 

In truth, he does not keep his eyes off the blonde and he doesn’t sheath his sword, either.

It hits Cloud like a truck. 

He is the hunter. 

Of course, he is. 

He had never been anything else to Sephiroth for the last year of his life, why should he assume that it would be any different now?

_No… wait…!_

He can’t…!

Cloud fights his way to the exit of the stands, it is easier this time since most of the people are still seated and vibing to the music, pointing at the roof, yelling excitedly how the demonic house got catapulted into space. While the announcers step back on stage improvising a goodbye speech. 

Cloud hurries to the weapon storage while keeping his eyes peeled for the other man. The seconds waited to get his sword back are the longest in his life.

And he knows… he knows that _he_ is still here, he can feel him as clearly as he can feel the warmth of the summer sun on his skin. Cloud calls out to him again.

_Please…!_

_Wait!_

Cloud circles around, focusing again on where the pull seems to come from. The outside area is already crowded with people talking about the fight, cheering. Where would _he_ go if he didn’t want to be seen? There must be a back entrance. Cloud has to find it!

Cloud focuses, realizing that the one he is seeking is now fighting hard to hide his traces, but he can still feel hints of the pull regardless and follows it once more, and it leads him to…

The back entrance of course. 

Just as everywhere else, all those people are already crowding the area. Some of them obviously fans who are eager to see the champion. Cloud expresses a silent curse. Clearly, this is the only downside about the Wall Market district’s prospering that much lately. The place is filled to the brim.

And then Cloud sees _him_ as he steps outside, behind him some angry shouts about how he will have to pay for the repairs of the roof. Sephiroth waves it off. “Keep the money.”

Turns to the crowd then, clearly displeased that all the people are keeping him, too, from moving swiftly.

Their eyes meet again and with it a strong pulse of all kinds of emotions hits Cloud. He has to get closer. He has to know him. 

For a moment they almost walk parallel, separated only by the crowd, staring at each other. But Sephiroth’s pose clearly indicates that he is ready to engage in a fight if necessary. He is still tense, and even though his sword is sheathed, his hand is ready to draw it anytime. 

_I don’t want to hurt you!_ Cloud sends over in desperation. 

The other looks like he has heard him, he lowers his head and shakes it slowly, then changes his direction, clearly using the dense crowd to his advantage. Cloud understands that Sephiroth is looking for a way to get away. He has no intention to let Cloud near him. So his only chance seems to lie in a change of his approach.

_You will be safe with the crowd around us. I just want to talk!_

Those green eyes look almost sad when the message is delivered. Cloud realizes now that there is another one of those small back alleys nearby and that this is the place that Sephiroth is going for.

His green eyes darken when he understands that Cloud has apparently read his intentions. He walks faster. 

Cloud pushes people. Rudely. He knows that he is so much stronger than an average person after all. Feels sorry but can’t afford to stop now to say it, can’t afford to lose sight of the other again. But Sephiroth has slipped into the alley already and Cloud is still a good distance away. 

_Don’t go!_

He rushes the last steps, the yells of upset people being angry that they are getting pushed around like they weighed nothing all around him. When this is over, Cloud will have to find ways to redeem himself. 

But for now, for now, he has to try to catch him, 

so they can…

The alley is empty. 

Cloud huffs in frustration as he finds himself scanning the rooftops. Like last time when he had this feeling. He finally looks down again, scanning the alley once again just to make sure. There are just a few lonely couples here and there, minding their own business in dark corners. And a single black feather on the floor. 

Cloud picks it up slowly. It is the second black feather that he finds today, just that it is not a raven’s this time. It is far too big for that. 

It is _his_. 

And he _flew_ off, to... where…?

Cloud stares into the sky again and shivers. It is not pleasant to be reminded. Reminded of how he kept tracking him down again and again when Sephiroth was on the run. Just that he couldn’t sense him back then. They had no such connection. Days, weeks, even months could pass without a trace.

But now...He can still feel him. Can pinpoint his direction.

If he hurries, Cloud should be able to follow him. Follow him to wherever he went and... talk? Apologize? Allow the other to drive his blade through his middle if only that could make him understand just how terrible Cloud feels, how much he regrets the mistake that he has made?

He already knows what he needs to do.

Cloud leaves the lights and the crowds of Wall Market behind and sets off into the darkness.


	5. Desert

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stubborn as he is, Cloud follows Sephiroth's trace into the wastelands...
> 
> I also have to mention here that we were quite overwhelmed about all the support that "Sassyroth" (I still keep misspelling it as "roph", LOL!) has received on Twitter. You guys even made a hashtag for him!  
> Needless to say that some schedules were rearranged so more art of him can be posted with future chapters. <3  
> You guys really are the best community and we couldn't be more grateful for your support!

## 

(Posted with permission. Source: [Click here for artist's Twitter ;)](https://twitter.com/DarkTownArt/status/1332535495696527363?s=20) )

## 5 Desert

(Playlist: Memories Of Dust - Nier Automata OST

WORLDBIGFLAMEUP - Promare OST - Hiroyuki Sawano)

  
  
  


The starry sky over the nightly desert, with its shiny green ribbon-like fog of the Lifestream and its ethereal shine is beautiful, but he doesn’t see it.

The soft breeze of the nightly air is cool and refreshing, but he doesn’t feel it.

All his senses are trained on not losing that feeling, holding that connection to _him_.

Cloud knows that running off into the desert on foot was a bad idea. But he didn’t want to risk losing Sephiroth by wasting time when trying to get through the crowd and back to his bike. So he had slipped through streets and alleys, following _him_ like a compass, and finally stepped into the desert sand then. He should have seen this coming, Midgar was surrounded by wasteland after all.

A reasonable person would have turned back. A reasonable person would have pinpointed Sephiroth’s direction, memorized it, and circled around to get his bike. But Cloud is no reasonable person. He is long past this point. So focused on his task, so afraid that when he closes his eyes for too long, it - no - _he_ would just be lost again, that he just keeps going.

His body is Mako enhanced after all. And the night still hangs heavy all around him. He will be fine. There are plenty of smaller settlements and stations around that are easy to reach for someone like Cloud. Even in the hot desert sun. He will have plenty of chances to stock up on water and food in case he needs to.

Still, he finds that ever so often he has to stop. Not because he is tired. He could go on for hours. It’s because Sephiroth is changing directions quite a lot now. He is probably trying to shake him off. The pull is getting weaker, too. The silver-haired man seems to be investing a lot of energy into shielding himself from Cloud. The blonde is quite sure that the other man can feel him in the same intensity that he can feel in return. He knows that Cloud is on his heels. 

So Cloud has done the only thing that seemed reasonable in his case, which was sending friendly pleads the other’s way each time he reached out to feel for him again. They remained unanswered. And the farther the other got away, the more it felt like screaming into the void.

And before he knows it, he is climbing dunes. The soft sand slows his approach down massively, which is probably what his target has intended. Still, he doesn’t give up. Climbs dune after dune, calling out every once in a while to see if he’s still on the right track. 

When suddenly...

**_Turn back._ **

Cloud stops in his tracks. He’s been busy climbing one of the bigger dunes, hoping to get a better look over the desert once he has made it to the top, not consciously calling out but still having his mind set on _him_. He blinks, startled. Did he just…?

_I … what…?_

**_There’s only desert to come for miles where you are going._ **

**_Turn back._ **

So they are talking. Cloud walks faster, feeling an urgent need to reach the top as fast as possible so he can take a look around. Perhaps he can see him, then...

_You are… like someone I used to know…_

_I need to talk to you!_

Cloud calls out as he rushes up the dune. Starts breaking a sweat now since he is fighting the sand to get forward as fast as possible. 

**_Not interested._ **

When Cloud finally reaches the crest of the dune, he is huffing for air. He takes a moment to catch his breath. Stares hard in the direction where the silver-haired man should be. But sees nothing.

_Don’t you want to know why we are connected?_

It feels like the other one is sighing in annoyance. 

Then, finally.

**_You are prone to magic._ **

**_Being able to call out to others who are, too, is nothing unusual._ **

Cloud breathes hastily as he stares and focuses on the point where Sephiroth should be. He might have landed to talk to Cloud. Whatever the case, he will probably get out of reach soon with all the dunes slowing the blonde’s approach. And he knows it.

_I… uh…_

_I have never been able to talk to anyone this way before…!_

_And you look like the spitting image of a friend I lost._

Silence.

_Tell me, if this was just an unimportant thing that happened sometimes between people prone to magic, then why are you running from me?_

Silence again.

Cloud feels stronger again now that they have exchanged some words. It’s giving him an even bigger reason to hold on to his approach. And so the blonde sets himself into motion again, stomping down the dune, ready to climb the next one.

_I will not stop coming after you if you don’t at least tell me that much!_

_…_

_I am a good hunter, just so you know!_

**_Annoying’s what you are._ **

**_..._ **

**_The answer to your question is simple._ **

**_You just haven’t run into anyone else yet who was prone to magic in the same way you are. Just travel around some more and you’ll see for yourself. It’s not special._ **

_I am traveling around right now, thank you very much._

**_You’re on foot. In a desert._ **

_The bike wouldn’t do much good here._

**_Which is why you should go back to where you came from!_ **

_Listen…!_

_I have seen a whole war… been surrounded by people prone to magic. Some of them far stronger than me. If what you said was common, I would have seen it!_

**_And they are all dead now…_ **

Cloud stops in his tracks. He had had this thought, couldn’t avoid it when he mentioned the war, but he did not consciously transmit it. He was quite certain that he could shield his thoughts that much. Would be able to separate what he wanted the other to hear, and what he wanted to keep to himself. Unless, of course, this was the real Sephiroth. Then he would know what had happened to their comrades. 

_So you know…!_

**_All I know is that being around you won’t end well._ ** ****

**_We should avoid each other._ **

_But I have no intention to…_

**_We aren’t meant to be close in any way._ **

**_Don’t you get that?_ **

The last retort hits deep. There is no way for Cloud to deny the truth. He killed Sephiroth after all… sent him to the Lifestream.

_Wait…!_

_Could you at least tell me how you managed to get out of the Lifestream?_

Another moment of silence.

**_Okay now._ **

**_This is the last thing I’m gonna say to you._ **

**_There is an outpost to your west._ **

**_Go there, get some water, and go home._ **

And that’s it. Like a ribbon cut in half, the connection is lost. There is nothing to be heard or felt from _him_ anymore. 

Cloud stares into the nightly sky in desperation, his mind racing. What now? Going to the outpost or… following the last directional input he had gotten from him. He is quite aware that Sephiroth could change his direction at any time, now that he got enough distance between them.

Cloud has to try anyway. He has been out in the wild quite often back then when he was tracking Sephiroth down for ShinRa. For days sometimes. Had managed to keep going with hardly any sleep or food. He’s aware how insane his approach may seem. But whoever would dare to judge him had not lived through what he had to live through during the war. Had not experienced what he had experienced, not seen what he had seen. 

So even if Sephiroth has changed direction now and went somewhere else at a certain point, he still went east for a couple of miles, before their connection got cut off. Which means Cloud will start with this as his first hint. Even someone like Sephiroth wouldn’t fly forever. He would have to take a break sometime. Perhaps at one of the nearby settlements. Since he told Cloud to go back home to Midgar, Cloud assumes that Sephiroth has no business there and was just coming through.

Which means he was probably avoiding this place, but… hold on. He’s an unbeaten champion of the arena. So he must at least frequent the place from time to time. Cloud just didn’t sense him back then, but it did happen. He wonders why he sensed him today. Is Sephiroth capable of just opening and closing the connection? If yes, why did he allow for it to transmit that freely all of a sudden?

When Cloud went to the arena, it was overwhelming. It was so strong. As though the other wanted to be found and… share whatever he…? 

Just to change his mind once he finally lay eyes on Cloud. _He rejected me_ , Cloud thinks bitterly.

The thought makes him stop in his tracks again. Should he really go after someone who so clearly doesn’t want him around? Why did he radiate these strong feelings of longing then? Were they not for Cloud? Was he looking for someone else?

His heart sinks just from the thought of it.

Can’t they at least… talk once? 

He won’t ask for anything else, 

they don’t need to see each other ever again after that. 

He just… 

needs to know… 

wants to know…

if he can be forgiven.

\---

  
  


If Cloud wasn’t Mako enhanced, being stubborn the way he is could easily have been the death of him. The irony of the situation is how much all the time that he had invested when tracking down Sephiroth as the experienced warrior was still alive, has helped him learn all he needs to know about his own limits. It taught him how long he could go without water and food. Taught him for how long he could run without slowing when he actually needed to sleep and when he could drop it for the night because Sephiroth had managed to set him on a wrong trail and was long gone.

So Sephiroth doesn’t want to be found then. Fine. 

In that case, tracking him would take Cloud a bit longer, but he would quite certainly find him sooner or later. Someone with his distinctive look and demeanor cannot hide forever. This rings even truer when Cloud considers that the silver-haired man dared to go fighting in the arena of Midgar’s Wall Market of all places. 

Like he wanted to be found. Just to tell Cloud off once he had finally looked him in the eye. The blonde still cannot fathom who else the other man might have tried to reach when Cloud clearly was the only one who heeded the signal and to whom it seemed to hold on to in return once it had found him.

He has been climbing dunes all night, keeping his senses peeled for any sign, any hint of his target. But Sephiroth has kept the connection sealed, kept him shut out. That in itself almost feels more painful than the fact that the other man doesn’t want to see him.

Cloud comes to a halt on another one of those larger dunes, breathing the fresh air, scanning the horizon of the slowly nearing sunrise. What landmarks are in range that Sephiroth could have flown to? Cloud turns, a bit at a time, focusing a narrow spot in each direction before he turns again. Nothing, and nothing, and…

What’s that? Looks like a little disturbance far away in the sky. 

Hardly visible, easy to miss, yet Cloud sees it anyway. What places does he know of, so far east? He thinks hard while he narrows his eyes, trying to make sense of what he is actually looking at. Well... if he recalls correctly, didn’t they find oil over there some years ago? So there should be a small settlement, connected to a Chocobo station. 

He rushes down the dune already to climb the next one. Yes, oil he thinks it was, and that’s why they erected a small town there, in the middle of nowhere, where otherwise no one would ever want to settle. Was there anything else around this area? Some ancient ruins perhaps. Of one of the long-gone cities. That’s two places already for him to check on.

Sephiroth might just have flown to the settlement to stock up on water and take a rest. Maybe? If rest is what he needs…? Cloud can still not pinpoint how strong the experienced warrior is exactly at that given moment. Judging by the way in which he accidentally blew Hellhouse into space and by the strength of the energies that he sent Cloud’s way, Cloud would assume that Sephiroth, too, could probably go for a while. 

He doesn’t know, however, how much of Sephiroth’s energy a longer flight would consume, though, or how well-rested the other man had been that day before he decided to fly off into the desert. 

All of this information has always been an important factor when Cloud had tracked the other man down in the past. In the end, they were literally playing a cat and mouse game. It came down to who of the two of them could hold out longer. And since Sephiroth was lacking the resources that Cloud had full access to, the blonde was wearing the silver-haired man down over time, making it impossible for Sephiroth to shake him off as they were reaching the end of the hunt. 

\---

Sunrise. Fresh blues and reds and oranges in the sky. 

The few scattered buildings of the settlement standing out against it like dark silhouettes. It is still too early for the only store around to be opened. The only movements Cloud can see come from the birds by the Chocobo station, most of them in the stables. Only one of them hooked to a wagon, but he sees no coachman in the area.

What concerns Cloud a lot more than the fact that the small town is still asleep, however, is the anomaly in the sky farther down to the east. Where the ancient ruins lay.

“How convenient.” He huffs, as he stomps by the houses, eyes trained on the clouds circling a bunch of odd-looking golden shimmering flashes in the sky.

Fighting in Wall Market’s arena one day just to be up to no good somewhere in the ancient ruins just a few hours later? He can picture Sephiroth doing that. Cloud knows what it feels like to be consumed by an ever raging wish for revenge. 

If he were walking in Sephiroth’s shoes, had come back from the Lifestream like he did… after all that had happened? Cloud would want revenge, too. He would want to stick it to ShinRa so hard, they’d never recover. And he is quite sure that Sephiroth would want it, too. So whatever he is summoning there - it can’t be good. 

Cloud stays cautious as he approaches the ruins. Not much has survived the tides of time here. There once were skyscrapers, but most of the buildings have tumbled down into the sand since, leaving only remnants of pillars and walls here and there. Reaching no more than perhaps two stories high. The desert has been a cruel mistress.

With his hand on his sword handle, Cloud scans his surroundings carefully. The wind has gotten much stronger here, it bellows at him, tugging at his clothes and hair.

Where the heck is Sephiroth? There can’t be a summon that big going on without somebody summoning it! 

And then, finally, he sees something up on the remnants of a collapsed building. Lying on the edge of the wall, on his back? Is that him? Cloud sees silver hair dancing in the wind. Did this guy have the guts to lie down and watch his summon come to be like he was watching stars?

“Hey!” Cloud bellows.

No movement other than the hair dancing in the wind. 

“Sephiroth!” Again no reaction. Is he ignoring him? 

Cloud looks around and finds a stone. Could as well… and the stone flies the other man’s way already. _About to hit his head_ , Cloud thinks, _maybe should have aimed…_

Sephiroth’s hand catches it. Cloud sees him stir finally, how he sits up to peak down in annoyance. “Hey watch it, asshat! You could hurt somebod...oh it’s you again.” He drops back on his back with an annoyed huff.

“Would you mind explaining what in Gaia’s name you’re doing here?” Cloud yells. He could easily jump up to not give the silver-haired man the satisfaction of being able to talk down at him, but then again, Sephiroth has a wing, and Cloud is not interested to chase him through the desert again.

“What does it look like?” He hears Sephiroth bellow back. “I am waiting.”

“For what?”

Sephiroth sits up on his heels and gives Cloud the most annoyed look he has ever seen that face strike, then points up to where the summon is. “My contract?”

“Your contract...?”

“Are you deaf?” Sephiroth eyes Cloud skeptically, while playfully tossing the stone up repeatedly just to catch it again. 

“I’m not deaf… what contract… did you not summon this?”

Sephiroth cocks his head sideways as if to say _“really?”_ then finally he bellows. “A wyvern. It’s good pay. Don’t tell me you want this one, too. I already lost my fight money and my jacket is ruined because of you!” 

He regards his open jacket with regret in his eyes and sighs. “I really liked this one.”

“And this is my fault, how?”

“You made me fly?!”

“I didn’t make you do anything! I asked you to talk to me and you _ran_!”

The older man stands, his expression changing from annoyance to disgust. “Any reasonable man would run from you ShinRa dumbasses.”

“I am not with ShinRa!”

Sephiroth’s eyes feel as dark on Cloud as the sky, with its clouds raging in an ever so angry storm above him. Shaken violently by loud thunder and bright golden flashes. “Well good for you then, Icequeen. Now get out of my sight or I cut you down!”

“I could help you beat that wyvern, you know?”

“I won’t repeat myself.” Sephiroth bellows and Cloud can see clearly now how the older warrior draws his blade. “You’ve strained my patience more than enough for one day. Leave, or you’ll regret it!”

Cloud doesn’t like the development of this one bit as he reaches for the sword on his back. “If I beat you, will you finally answer my questions?”

“Beat me?” The silver-haired man chuckles. “There is only one person capable of that, and it’s certainly not you!”

Cloud frowns. After all, it was he who had cut the other man down in the end. 

But if he’s honest…

then he has to admit that Sephiroth had been injured and worn down so much that Cloud had been at quite an advantage. However, he and Sephiroth had had another encounter not too long before that, and they turned out to be quite well balanced then. So he should be more than capable to face the other man in a fight! 

And considering that nearly every last one of the Firsts died either in the war or in its aftermath, Cloud has no recollection of anyone being stronger than himself or being of comparable strength. Which is probably yet another reason why ShinRa dropped their approach on him. They didn’t have anyone capable to strike him down. So who on Gaia could Sephiroth be talking about, now? 

“You aren’t making much sense to me right now, but if you insist, I will give you a good fight!” Cloud says finally, switching into a fighting stance.

Sephiroth reaches inside the inner pocket of his jacket suddenly, regarding Cloud with a half-amused, half annoyed grin. What he produces looks like a small, golden crystal. Cloud has never seen one like it before. The silver-haired man still has that grin on his face when he tosses the crystal into his mouth and bites down hard. 

With his sword drawn and ready, Cloud watches in confusion how Sephiroth’s body seems to fire up, pumped with a surge of what looks like fresh energy. The older man chuckles as he focuses Cloud, his eyes now burning like green fire, and Cloud fathoms that his chances at winning this fight have suddenly lowered dramatically.

Cloud stares, nervous, how Sephiroth approaches the corner of the ruin’s wall, about to jump down, with that feral grin on his face. 

“Get ready to get your ass kicked!”

It hits Cloud like a brick. He shouldn’t have pushed for this fight. He has made a grave mistake and he is going to regret it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> writingstarsinthesky has returned as my trusted beta and I couldn't be more grateful!!  
> .  
> I am also slightly worried about Cloud. It's like he and Sephiroth are destined to fight each other- or are they?  
> There might be a nice twist in the next chapter. ;)


	6. Charger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fight of course takes a different turn than expected. :P
> 
> Thanks a ton for all the love this received so far! I wasn't expecting it, since, well, this is a slow burn and I am going out of character with them on purpose. So thank you guys again for supporting the sass and don't worry, Cloud is a good guy at heart. he just needs to find the right path again. ;)

## 6 Charger

(Playlist: BangBangBUR!...n? - Promare OST - Hiroyuki Sawano)

(Into the Void - Nine Inch Nails)

  
  
  


The moment he engages in the fight, Cloud knows that accepting the duel was a mistake. His opponent might look like the Sephiroth who used to be his comrade and general during the Wutai War, but that is as far as the similarity goes.

He had known his Sephiroth. How he fought, what he would do. And in their last fight, Sephiroth was mortally wounded and desperate. That had made it quite easy for Cloud to win the upper hand and strike him down in the end. 

The swordsman Cloud is facing now seems to have nothing in common with that Sephiroth. Cloud should have guessed as much when he had seen him fight in the arena. Not only is he using a different technique with his much shorter sword, he is also fighting with a wild agility that makes it nearly impossible for Cloud to foresee his next move.

Strong and swift and full of life. It is beautiful and terrifying at the same time.

The blonde doesn’t manage to parry a single blow. Before long he finds himself hurt, panting, and with his back against a wall. A ferocious-looking Sephiroth pointing his sword at his neck. The silver-haired swordsman cocks his head sideways, eyes green fire, as he orates mockingly.

“You look like you want to die.”

“You could say I deserve it.” Cloud hisses darkly, staring back at the other man. 

This past year has been nothing but torture. No matter what he did, the hollowness in his soul seemed to be expanding until he was staring into an endless void.

“Oh, I see it now.” Sephiroth squints his eyes, as he lowers his sword slightly so it is no longer pointing at Cloud’s throat. “You’re too much of a coward to take your own life so you want me to do it.”

The words hit Cloud harder than any blade could do. 

“That’s not what this is…!”

“Then why don’t you fight me proper?” Sephiroth takes a step back and stares at Cloud as though he was a dirty insect. “You insult me.”

Cloud swallows hard. Is that what he had wanted? To step in front of the man who he had betrayed and have him judge him? And did he really want to die in the process, so he at least would know that he would have repented for the sin that keeps him wide awake each night? Or has he been looking for something else? For the other to tell him that it’s alright? That Cloud saw no other choice back then when it happened? And that, because he never really died, it all is forgiven? 

“Any day now, Icequeen!” Sephiroth yells mockingly. Eyes trained on Cloud as he waits for the blonde to finally make his move. Prove what he’s worth and Cloud distantly remembers something Angeal kept telling him during the war when he was still alive. A code of honor so deeply rooted that even a sassy and unhinged version of Sephiroth seems to abide by it. 

So when Cloud finally stares back into the silver-haired man, he can’t tell when he has felt so alive, if ever. When he has last given his all in a fair fight. When it was the last time that the cards had not been played in his favor when he had not been given all the money, all the manpower… all that he could possibly desire to ensure his definite victory.

This time, as they clash into each other, neither is holding back, neither is evading. They are both on the attack. And Cloud feels like he has finally found something again that he had long deemed lost.

\----

The moment Cloud’s back hits the ground is when Sephiroth’s blade cuts into his abdomen. Its stinging, burning pain sending waves of painful heat through his body.

Ironically enough, it has more of a cleansing fire, than of an injury that is deadly to normal people. And Cloud realizes that those green eyes, so full of life and full of fire, even if they are filled with anger, is what he needed to see. It brings back a blissful knowing that finally, he can come to a conclusion with all of this. Even if it kills him in the process.

The world seems to be shaking all around them, and Cloud wonders if this is what dying feels like. 

A faint voice in his head keeps crying that he should look around, should try to figure out where this danger comes from. But he doesn’t care anymore. For the first time in what feels like an eternity, he doesn’t care about anything at all. He just lies still, stares back into those bright green serpent eyes, and falls.

He distinctly registers rubble and dust all around them, the nearest ruins shaking, then collapsing - two giant wings behind Sephiroth’s back. 

Dark feathers. Shining in a mixture of blue and violet, reliant on how the light hits them. Wait… this is wrong… this is… his Sephiroth had one wing only.

The dark angel has him by the hand suddenly, and finally, Cloud manages to free himself from those piercing green eyes, takes a look around. 

Below them, a downward spiral of torn concrete, desert sands, and collapsing buildings. And then, mighty jaws of a gigantic wyvern-like creature. Emerging right from the hole below.

Sephiroth kicks into the sky to win height quickly. 

Cloud’s eyes widen, Sephiroth groans. “We’ll finish this another time!”

Cloud is too stoked to retort anything, he just stares at the giant creature, then back at Sephiroth’s wings. The dark angel flies both of them over to one of the old skyscrapers that seems far enough away to be unaffected by the vortex. 

He drops Cloud on the roof and turns to get back to the giant wyvern that has meanwhile climbed onto the surface.

“Wait!” Cloud cries out.

But Sephiroth is on his way back already. “You stay here and get well. I’ll take care of it!”

Cloud barely manages to sit up on his knees, as he stares at Sephiroth who looks like a small black raven as he approaches the huge monster that has meanwhile dug itself fully out of the ground. So it was sleeping there, then? For Gaia knows how long?

Something of that size could exist yet no one has ever seen any like it before? Cloud would know, he has been chasing after big loot relentlessly after all. Yet Sephiroth said that contracts exist to get the likes of it killed? Where would one fetch them? It doesn’t add up. 

The huge creature strikes a picture that Cloud would describe as beautiful, wasn’t it so dangerous. It is entirely black aside from the few spikes and scales that shine a dark purple and blue in the light. Almost like Sephiroth’s feathers.

Cloud swears loudly as he tends to his wounds, while he is forced to stay back and watch as Sephiroth dashes into the wyvern, attacking it with heavy strikes. The enormous creature snaps at the experienced warrior. Repeatedly attempts to impale him with its horned head, but he uses his wings skillfully to evade.

Cloud swears angrily as he labors to speed up his healing spells. His goddamn wounds have put him into a timeout. Healing up seems to take an eternity and he is forced to watch how down there, the only person on this planet whom the blonde doesn’t want to see die - again - is fighting a battle too big for one alone.

Even someone with the powers Cloud has seen so far from the other man would probably not be strong enough to do it on his own. Unless, of course, Sephiroth had been holding back and Cloud hadn’t seen his full potential. But unlike his fight against Hellhouse, Cloud just knows how much energy Sephiroth is investing into evading the wyvern’s attacks while laying all his power into his blows each time there is even the smallest opening. 

If those mighty claws or teeth catch onto any of the wings, it’s over Cloud figures.

He has to hurry.

\----

Down on the plane, it slowly dawns on Sephiroth that he is facing a far bigger problem than he had anticipated. The fight makes him burn through his power faster than he wanted. And even worse - the creature isn’t as dumb as it looks. 

The silver-haired man sees himself forced to alter his evasive moves constantly. His wings getting painfully close to sharp teeth and claws every time he evades or attacks. But leaving without taking care of the monster isn’t an option. He cannot allow it to run free, and he cannot allow anyone else to take it down, either. It is his burden to carry, and his alone.

All too soon, Sephiroth realizes that he has to take out the big guns once more. He shouldn’t have wasted that much time and energy on the blonde, he thinks annoyed.

So he fishes into his pocket again and produces yet another crystal. Thinks to himself that two in one day is going to set him up for quite a ride when suddenly the ground shakes under him again, and he loses his footing.

_This, right here, is the prime definition of a fucked up day!_

Is the only thing that runs through Sephiroth’s mind when he sees the crystal fall and dance over the rumbling ground, just come to a halt several feet away from him.

“Oh come one, now!” He yells annoyed, as he rolls to his side quick to evade the wyvern’s jaw. Then looks back at where the crystal should be.

Sephiroth looks over just in time to see the blonde, now healed up, jump to their platform from one of the surrounding buildings. And he picks up the crystal without hesitation.

“Over here!” Sephiroth shouts, extending his free arm in a gesture to catch it.

Cloud's eyes dart up; looking like he is actually about to toss the crystal when suddenly, the floor breaks. All of them-Cloud, Sephiroth, the dragon-fall. Again.

Sephiroth manages to dash out of harm's way, using his wings to descend slowly. He doesn’t like where this is going since the dust is far too dense down here. The wyvern way too close, yet hidden from view. 

He curses again as he lands at, what he hopes, is a good distance away from the dangerous creature. Why did this section collapse the way it did, anyway? Moving carefully, facing where the beast should linger, he allows his eyes to dart around. The few sun rays that break through the settling mist illuminate faintly what looks like an old subway station.

“Just my luck…” he mumbles.

And a part of him, despite his own wishes, hopes that the blonde has survived the fall. Annoying as he may be, in the end, it seemed that he was just trying to help. Trying to do the right thing. And for that, it is never too late. Would be a shame to see him perish now that he finally was about to learn something new.

Giant jaws snap out at him suddenly, followed by claws of roughly the same size. He deflects and dishes out various blows. Dang the sight is so bad here, and the space is far too narrow to move properly. He should have never come down here, but what other choice does he have, when he quite literally cannot let this one escape for a number of reasons?

As he dashes and parries, the beast drives him backward and away from the opening in the ceiling. Away from his option to bail, and from the only light source. Not good. Perhaps he’ll have to let this one slide for now and come back with help later. He has lost the crystal after all, and fighting that beast in the narrow tunnel with nearly no vision comes close to a death sentence. 

Sephiroth knows that he has to make his move. Now or never. He kicks off into a dash, to make it past the giant creature. When...

Suddenly he is on his back, struggling, ramming his sword into the giant creature from below, again and again. Puncturing the neck, yet still, the beast is going at him violently. That’s it then, he has to give it all or he is not making it out of this. He casts a barrier and tries to fight the creature off with a shockwave.

Tries to get some distance, using his wings for help, but he is too small and too light, pinned in place, he aims for the creature’s eyes next, sees it snap at him angrily. Only held back by… by… something.

\----

Finally, the giant head collapses, lifeless. Right on top of him.

Sephiroth gasps for air as he pushes his arms under the creature’s head to roll it off his torso. He tries to sit up and howls when he feels the stinging pain in his side. Got injured. Great. Could have figured as much when the beast was keeping him grounded. But he was pumped with adrenaline and focused too much on getting the job done.

  
Sephiroth inspects his torn shirt and bloody side. Grinding his teeth, he pulls one of the beast’s smaller claws out his wound. “Shouldn’t have come alone.” 

He huffs and lets his head drop to the floor. Lies flat on his back, trying to move as little as possible, as he labors on a healing spell, feeling quite beaten. The lack of sleep and the constant strain from all the flying and fighting are finally taking their toll on him. He will have to find a place to rest once this is done, and then...

“You are not alone.” A voice to his right says now. Sephiroth recognizes it. It’s the Icequeen.

  
“Fine.” Sephiroth groans, still busy with his spell and not quite willing to admit that he is somewhat glad that the other one is still alive. “We share.”

The blonde’s footsteps come to a halt right next to the silver-haired man.

“Let me help you with this.” 

And with that Cloud directs a stronger healing spell right at Sephiroth’s wound.

The injured warrior turns his head finally just to be greeted by Cloud’s eyes that shine in an uncanny blue-green hue in the faint light. It makes Sephiroth’s blood freeze. That guy probably got pumped with mako to the brim. So close he can feel the energy radiate ever so strongly from him. Wouldn’t want to be on his bad side when he really wanted to win. 

It doesn’t help, either, that the other is dressed all in black and carries a sword that only enhanced people are able to use. The sword screams ShinRa. And so do the other’s eyes. Sephiroth wonders if he should take back that one thought that he had earlier. The one about being glad that the Icequeen was still alive. 

Cloud extends his hand suddenly, and Sephiroth, lying perfectly still, realizes that he has been staring.

“Still not trusting me?” Cloud asks as the other doesn’t make any attempt to take the offered hand.

“To be quite honest I’d rather keep you at an arm’s length for now.” Sephiroth rolls on his good side, then stands up slowly. “We should split the loot anyways before this creature gets consumed by the Lifestream.”

To that, Cloud only cocks his head sideways, still staring at Sephiroth with those uncanny eyes of his. From what Sephiroth knows, creatures and humans alike ascend into the Lifestream when they die, which means meat eaters need to have good timing when preparing their meals. But the blonde just looks at him as though none of this matters. Like he was a god's damned zoo animal.

“You’re welcome.” He hisses. Starts to inspect the carcass then, just to get some distance between him and Icequeen. He grabs the beast by a horn and turns the head to the side. When he finds what he was looking for, he begins cutting it off with his blade. 

“Would your highness like to have one of the horns first before she resumes pestering me?”

“I…”

Cloud starts, but he doesn’t get far. 

“And it’s one horn for Queen Elsa.” 

The silver-haired man tosses the horn over, and Cloud catches it out of reflex. The blonde turns it around in his hand, examines its size and shape. His eyes then dart back to Sephiroth.

_Good job, Seph, you got yourself a real hunter here!_

Sephiroth thinks annoyed.

He has the strongest urge to just dash into the sky and fly off again, but the blonde would most likely just track him down once more. He would never sleep in peace ever again. Could as well go for a different approach, then.

“Well then mr cat got your tongue, dragon bones and scales are on demand for a number of different armors at the moment.” He says while cutting one of the shinier scales lose. Cloud still says nothing, which earns him another sigh from the tall man. “See it as a donation. As thanks for your _help_ , remember?” He adds and hopes that the blonde finally gets his ass moving. 

If the Icequeen finds out that he hasn’t been operating at his full strength, then it won’t matter anymore that he and his wings saved him from the biggest wyvern in existence. The blonde is not the first hunter Sepihroth has encountered - and survived - after all. They make you trust them, it’s what they always do. Just to, then...

Cloud’s sudden movement snaps Sephiroth from his thoughts.

The blonde doesn’t hear it, but Sephiroth releases a sigh of relief when he sees him finally taking a step around the beast to take a look around at the creature’s back. “Those shiny ones…?” He asks finally, his giant ass sword pointing at some of the scales.

“Right. Forgot it was your first one.” Sephiroth says unimpressed. “But yeah the rule of thumb to this is, just take everything that shines.”

\----

Fear.

What? Where did that come from? It startles Cloud, makes him stop working. Sephiroth still seems to keep himself shielded. Yet, what Cloud just sensed wasn’t his own feeling. He is quite sure that they are alone down here, though. His oversensitive hearing would have picked up anything unusual, he is quite sure of that.

He bends down to reach for one of the scales when a sharp pain hits his head. He almost drops his sword. Reaches for his head, blinking confused. Realizing now that the wyvern’s body is between the both of them, shielding Sephiroth from view. That uncanny and creepy feeling gets stronger now, it speaks to Cloud’s instincts, makes him step sideways until he can see the other man again who just looks up at him, unimpressed. 

“I don’t have all day, kid. Ask whatever you wanna ask. I give you time until we’ve collected all of the dragon’s valuables.” The older warrior says suddenly, as though he has just decided that he finally wants to give Cloud what he wants. He stares at him impatiently with his piercing green eyes.

Cloud realizes suddenly that there are far too many questions flowing through his mind, and to make matters worse, he is feeling slightly dizzy now. Perhaps he should have taken a break to drink some water at a point of his chase, or before engaging in the fight with Sephiroth… or when they fought the wyvern...

“You… why do you have two wings…?” Cloud regrets it the moment the words leave his mouth. 

The other man freezes, hands still resting on the wyvern where he had just been busy prying off some more of those shiny looking scales.

“Did you get hit on the head?” Sephiroth looks Cloud over as though worried that something could be seriously wrong with him. When Cloud doesn’t answer, the older man pauses his work for a moment and stares at him confused. “Let me get this straight. You spent all night tracking me down, helped me to kill a big ass wyvern then, just to ask me… why... I... have... wings.”

“Two.” Says Cloud.

“Apologies, your majesty, two.” Sephiroth bows his head to emphasize the Icequeen metaphor.

“Yes…” Cloud was never good with words, but he’d still rarely felt this embarrassed.

The other man’s face is the spitting image of repulsion paired with annoyance as he returns to his work. “I have never been asked anything that ridiculous.”

“It should be one.” Cloud continues.

“And I correct myself. Because that, right there, is _actually_ the _most_ ridiculous thing anyone has ever said to me.” Sephiroth points at Cloud’s chest to emphasize his words. “But to be blunt with you, you don’t look so hot. You sure you aren’t hurt?” 

“I am fine,” Cloud says quickly. “Could you just answer my question?” 

“If it’s so important to you, I’ve been like this since I remember.” When Cloud doesn’t say anything in return but instead looks like he is waiting for the answer to rule them all, Sephiroth sighs once more, interrupting his work for a moment to look up at the blonde.

“Look,” he pauses as he realizes that he doesn’t know Cloud’s name, and shoots him a questioning look.

“It’s Cloud.”

“...Cloud…”

“Doesn’t that strike a chord with you?”

They stare at one another for a moment, neither man daring to move.

“Should it?” Sephiroth says finally.

Cloud bites his lip in frustration.

He just can’t seem to get a clear answer out of the man, and worst of all, Sephiroth looks like he has almost finished his work, and the only question Cloud actually managed to ask was the one which led to the least satisfying answer he could possibly imagine.

“Are you perhaps confusing me with someone else?” Sephiroth says now. “Someone who happens to look a lot like me, but has only one wing for whatever nonsensical reason?”

Cloud pauses for a moment to look the other man over. Face, height, hair. It’s all there. The armor is gone and the sword might be different, but there could be any number of reasons for that. 

The wing of course, is a different issue. The Sephiroth he knew had only one, and yet he used it to fly with ease. Creating an illusion that would project a second wing sounds unlikely in regards to everything Cloud knows about magic. What if Sephiroth advanced and grew a second wing during the year of his “absence”? There is no other logical explanation to Cloud. 

Unless, of course, this Sephiroth is one of _them_. One of Hojo’s lab rats. Which, if he turns it over in his head, is what makes the most sense to him right now. There is no way to escape the Lifestream after all. The dead are dead, and he feels seriously stupid now for having thought, having hoped...

Cloud sighs deeply, then finally asks. “Did you escape Hojo’s lab and that’s why you are worried that I could be with ShinRa? That I could be here to take you back to them?”

Sephiroth chuckles at that, a supremely triumphant look on his face. “Finally we are getting somewhere! Listen, _Cloud_ . I’m not the guy you’re looking for. I just happen to look a lot _like_ him.”

Sephiroth - or rather, the man that looks like him - interrupts himself suddenly, looking momentarily like he is searching for some information he currently cannot quite grasp before he resumes. “I did not run from any lab, neither do I know a man called Hojo. I’m not from here, kid. And… I am sorry if that’s not what you were hoping to hear.”

Cloud stands there with his head hanging. What had he expected? That the other would turn out to be his Sephiroth in the end? There is too much evidence that is speaking against that. Cloud considers it most likely that he might just be talking to one of the clones. One with amnesia perhaps, but clever enough to know what ShinRa is and to keep a good distance from them. To be honest, he can’t blame the man.

“I guess you weren’t calling out to me then,” Cloud says slowly. It sounds more disappointed than he had intended and he feels stupid for not mentioning it earlier. But guess, a part of him was still hoping... 

“Nope, sorry,” Sephiroth says slowly. It is impressive to see how the silver-haired man’s posture has changed from passive-aggressive to almost genuinely sympathizing with Cloud’s suffering.

“Anyways, I should get going, and you should be on your way, too to... your ice palace, perhaps? You really do not look so hot.” 

Cloud huffs. He hates to admit it, but this “Sephiroth” is really observant. The blonde suddenly finds himself reaching to the wall next to him for support. “I’m fine…”

He isn’t. 

His head swims, his sight is blurry. 

He blinks to clear his vision, but it doesn’t help much.

Was the other really not calling out to him? Or did Cloud miss out on something? A loophole perhaps? Something that Sephiroth is using against him now since he still doesn’t trust Cloud’s good intentions?

When Cloud looks up, he sees that Sephiroth looks back at him sharply, narrowing that piercing eyes of his again. 

“Wait a minute. Did you swallow my crystal?”

Cloud says nothing, avoids the other’s gaze instead while he is still trying to regain his vision.

Sephiroth takes a few steps towards the blonde, there is a change of tone in his voice from annoyance to serious concern. But it is that of an adult scolding a child. Not that of a friend. “Did you or did you not swallow the crystal, Cloud?”

“It was going to kill you, I just wanted to help...” Cloud starts. Gods, why is his dizziness progressing so fast now?

It seems to be getting stronger with every step the silver-haired man takes towards him.

But that would mean that...

“W...Wait!” Cloud stutters, extending his free hand to signal for the other man to stop, but his palm is already touching skin. And the next moment, Cloud feels the other’s hands on his shoulders. “Wh… what is happening…?”

Sephiroth’s lips are forming a thin line as he looks down to catch Cloud’s gaze. “Your body is rejecting the crystal is what happens.”

Cloud’s hands are already helplessly holding on to the taller man for support. He feels a surge expand inside him, pushing heat to his head and making his vision go black gradually. “Th… that means it’ll probably just leave my body… the normal way? Right…?”

“Either that or you’ll die,” Sephiroth says and Cloud cannot tell if the worry in the other’s voice is directed at him, or the fact that there is something in his body that the silver-haired man wants.

“Why is this going… so fast…?”

“Accelerated growth.”

“...What?”

“Means it’s…”

And the rest is muffled noises as his hearing gives in on him, too. Cloud registers absently that he falls forward. Strong arms catch him. 

Well, at least it’s not the worst way to die, he thinks feeling overwhelmingly tired all of a sudden. After all the wrongs he’s done, he’d deserve to be taken to the Lifestream by none other than a dark angel. 

When he opens his eyes again, he sees the sky. 

It’s way too bright. 

This must be what it feels like to ascend into the Lifestream.

A happy blue with some lonely white clouds here and there. 

It stings in his eyes, his head... 

He buries his face into what seems to be Sephiroth’s shoulder. Registers now that he’s being held bridal style. He’s not dead then. Not yet. As he blinks again, avoiding the blazing sky, he catches a glimpse of the other’s impressive wingspan, hears the noise of feathers ruffling in the wind.

Hears a cry of pain and then faintly realizes that it is his own. Sephiroth looks down at him, but he can hardly make out his face. The dark angel says something to him. It sounds soothing, calming.

The world fades to black again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess it isn't too much of a spoiler to say that these two will be stuck with each other in the next chapter. ;)
> 
> Also; They say that it takes a whole village... and since I am not a native speaker, I will now thank momma Jenova & the bros for your help and support with this. Writing this chapter wasn't easy since I changed some stuff that required me to kill a lot of darlings. At times I thought that I wouldn't gonna make it, so thanks for keeping me motivated which helped me SO MUCH with finally finishing this!


	7. Broken Mirror

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cloud and Sephiroth are (finally?) stuck with each other.
> 
> There will be some fluff in this chapter, but I will have to share some cryptic dreams with you first, that will give you a first insight on how traveling between the worlds works.  
> This is also my longest chapter so far. RIP me for thinking that I would get this one done quickly. *laughs painfully*

##  7 Broken Mirror 

(Playlist: Chris Avantgarde feat. Red Rosamond - Inside | Dark Season 3 Soundtrack)

  
  
  


Soft morning light fell through the entrance of a tent. 

A lantern; its light long gone. 

Two swords lying together, 

like the two bodies next to them, cuddled up in blankets and furs.

Green eyes met blue ones.

Sephiroth stared into them,

shining back at him, blue like a summer sky.

He reached out to run his hand through blonde hair, 

brushed a finger lovingly over the other’s lips.

Sephiroth sighed deeply when the other reached out for him, too.

His hand about to touch. To touch…

######  _ ~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~ _

Sephiroth was falling. 

Around him nothing but darkness, an endless void. 

And a piercing, wrenching pain in his chest.

Never in his life had he felt so vulnerable, betrayed, and broken.

Freezing, unloved, and alone; he had nothing. 

Not even his wings were there to carry him. 

All he wanted was to find a way to a different place . But there was only blackness around him. He was alone in the void, falling, tumbling down. Deeper and deeper into the darkness he went, with nothing that would slow his fall.

How long could one fall here, he wondered. Did the void have an end? Would he just crash into it any moment and shatter into a thousand pieces?

Or would he keep falling until, after days on end without water and food, it would finally get the best of him? 

At least, he thought, falling would increase the distance to  _ him _ . He wanted to be as far away from  _ him _ as possible. He would live for as long as his body would allow, he decided, but he would not die by  _ his  _ hand. He would not give  _ him  _ that satisfaction.

But what if, he thought with a sudden burst of panic,  _ he _ had already started to follow him? Then just falling down in a straight line would do him no good. Knowing that he was hurt, his hunter would probably assume that going downwards was exactly the way he was going. He would find him.

_ No _ , he thought, grinding his teeth,  _ I cannot let him have me! _

The void was more than a blackness now, it was also dangerous.

He couldn't afford to fall much longer.

He had to try, at least, for as long as he was still strong enough, to move. Sephiroth focused with all he had on those two points at his back, used all the energy that he had left to get this one thing done.

He breathed a yelp of pain as his wings burst into existence; spread them wide with great effort. They stopped his fall at once. Hissing in pain, he balanced himself. He was flying at least. And as long as he managed to fly into whichever direction, he would increase the distance between himself and his pursuer, and that was all that mattered, now.

Flying should make him feel safe, but with his eyes wide open now and forced to stare into the endless blackness, he felt terror more than anything.

After what seemed to be centuries of staring into pitch-black nothingness, Sephiroth felt his hope dwindle.

He had never traveled the void on his own before. He did not know how to navigate here. He had always thought that there would be doors of sorts since this was what  _ he _ always spoke of. But there was nothing. Nothing at all, and Sephiroth had flown for hours, it seemed.

He just couldn’t go on for much longer, he realized. He was hurt and drained and had hardly made it here alive. So in a last act of despair, he did the only thing he could think of that could perhaps get him out of here. He closed his eyes, the old, terrifying blackness of the void meeting a new one, and searched. 

If it was just a single truth, a single light, within this eternity, then following this single point, this single flame would be what would point his way.  Like a compass. 

Wordlessly he called into the endless void. Each call he sent with more desperation than the last. And each time he saw nothing but darkness, he felt more tired, more drained. 

He just couldn’t go on any longer. Flying had never felt this straining. Never had it caused him so much pain.

_Please…_ he called one final time as his wings threatened to give out. _I can’t go on anymore.... someone… anyone…_

It was no use.

He wanted to cry but couldn’t. He was too exhausted, too tired. All the energy he had was focused on keeping his wings going.  _ Could as well go back to falling, then. _ He thought bitterly. How foolish he had been to assume that he would be able to navigate here. He should have never come. Yet the irony was that this place had been his only option to go if he wanted to live, if just for a little longer.

_ I am such a fool. Naive, young, and stupid. Too willing to trust the first person who told me that they’d love me. _ He thought as he ground his teeth to fight against the pain that had now blossomed in his wings as well.

So here was what he would do. He would roll into a tiny ball and wrap himself tightly inside his wings. If there was no one there to hold him, then he would hold himself. He would find his own solitude within his own darkness. Sheltered by dark wings and closed eyes, it would only be his own void that he had to face.

The moment he made this decision was also the moment he looked down. And froze. There, in the distance, somewhere behind his left shoulder, was a little blue light. He stared at it, as though it would disappear once he blinked. 

The aching pain in his wings reminding him a moment after that he had to act now. 

He flew a curve, eyes trained on the light. This was his only chance if any. He had no idea how big it was, or how far away, but it gave him hope. It gave him something to look up to and fight for.

Groaning from the strain, he put his all into flying faster, if only for a little. 

The light became bigger gradually, but still way too slow. And even though its sight filled him with hope, he was now worried that he would not make it. That he would be falling again before he made it close enough. That he would be lost again, and this time, for good.

_ Come on! _ He huffed, teeth grinding.  _ It’s not far now, just this last stretch, you can do it! _

His voice was somewhere out of himself when he reached out his arm as the light suddenly grew rapidly in size. He was certain that he would touch it any moment, he thought as he screamed in agony, but his hand touched nothing.

Instead, he was falling again. Not downwards but towards… towards the light, the… 

it was getting way too big way too fast now. He was in its orbit.

He felt fear, then panic. 

Tried to stop, but it was too late.

He crashed, like a moth into a flame of white and blue fire.

He felt his borders blur, the pain of which he had thought he would carry with him no matter where he went, faded.

And as he shattered into what felt like a million tiny pieces, he thought faintly that he perhaps had gone for the wrong light.

But why did he feel so warm, then?

  
  


######  _ ~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~ _

A hole in the roof, the sight of the stars, where there should be none. All around him; a field of yellow flowers. He didn’t know their names. A single black feather on his bare chest. He was awake, but he felt tired. So tired.

Was it cold in a dream? He didn’t know. It didn’t matter anymore, as soon as his eyes found the sky again. The sight of the stars was soothing. He admired them. When he tilted his head, he saw a green, nebular ribbon that embraced the sky softly. It was coming from somewhere below, apparently, from deep inside the planet herself, he knew this by certainty. He felt like he knew nothing else.

Suddenly - a soft sound not too far from him. He was not alone. But his instincts reassured him that what he sensed was warm and known. 

“Why do so many people fall through this roof?” He heard her say, almost a whisper. It amused him that even though he heard the weariness in her voice, of all things this was what she chose to say.

“It’s the exit,” he said matter of factly, but his voice was soft. His eyes were still watching the stars as though they were the only thing that was holding him together right now, and as though they were the answer to all of his questions.

He heard her shift her weight. She moved a step closer and he knew that she was watching him. “Why did you come here?”

“I had to.” He forgot why. 

A moment of silence stretched between them.

Footsteps. She knelt next to him, still at a safe distance, careful to not touch the flower field. She didn’t have to say it, he just knew that she was sad. He blinked when a thought, a small spark of information crossed his mind. 

“I am sorry about your flowers. They are precious in this world, aren’t they…?”

She nodded.

Finally, he turned his head to look at her. “I will repay you.”

He saw the shock when she met his serpent eyes. It hurt a little, but something told him that she was not the first who had ever looked at him this way. 

Another moment of silence.

“Is it the eyes?” He asked, finally. Concern in his voice.

She shook her head, no.

“What is it, then?” He almost whispered, realizing now that his body was so drained that he would have issues to sit up, let alone getting on his feet.

She had her arms wrapped around her legs, sitting slightly hunched, and she stared at him for yet another painfully long moment before she finally spoke again. 

“You should be dead.”

“I should be many things.” He frowned when only fragments of information found their way to him. “Assess me...”

She didn’t move. He thought harder. “Don’t you have magic, here?”

“We do, but…”

“Assessing not a thing?”

“I just…” She looked about as confused as him now. At least she moved finally, raising her arm slowly as she went. He lay very still to not seem threatening, while she closed her eyes for a moment and reviewed the results, then. Her brows furrowed.

She shook her head in disbelief and he felt how she assessed him for a second time. Waited for the result. Just to see that it was the same yet again. “This shouldn’t be possible but… you....

You are not him.”

She opened her eyes slowly and stared at him as though she could not believe her own words. “How can that be? How did you get here?”

He finally took a look around. This was an old church. It had long since been stripped of all that was of value. A few wooden banks were still there, of which some were scattered about at the far end of the building. The roof, the fall - an ordinary person wouldn’t have survived this. His eyes finally found hers again. 

“I don’t remember how it works… Not at the moment… I just know that you are my constant.”

“Your.... constant?” She tilted her head sideways in open curiosity and he sensed how her body relaxed slowly. That was good. He wouldn’t be able to defend himself if she deemed him a threat and were to attack him.

“It means that you are the one I am supposed to meet at the exit.” He said now, only to be greeted with more silence.

He waited patiently to give her time to process. Finally, she said. “How many times have you done this before?” 

“I can’t remember….”

He saw her move a bit closer, she looked him over, interested. Blushed faintly when she realized that he was lying fully naked there, in her flower field…

She quickly searched for a different point to rest her eyes on. It was cute in a way. Made him sport a grin which he quickly hid as she looked at him again - and right into his eyes this time.

  
“And was it always me who greeted you upon your arrival?”

He thought for a moment. “At most times, yes…the constant usually doesn’t change.”

“What would be the exception?”

“If you were dead.”

“Oh.” There was another moment of silence, but then she found a new question to entertain herself with.

“So you would know my name, then?” She asked playfully.

“It is Aerith…” He said and watched the surprise on her face.

She should have expected him to know her name, after all he had told her about being his constant and all that. But his whole existence here in this world still seemed a bit much for her to fathom. And he could not blame her for that. 

And yet, despite all odds, he was here. Barely alive and hardly remembering anything at all. Except… the pain… the darkness - and the blue light that led him here. 

He focused her now, suddenly understanding that he had one thing of his own to do. Closing his eyes, he waited for the blue light to show itself. Waited patiently since he knew how weak he was. Tried it for a second time, a third. But there was nothing.

Disappointment hit him hard. A part of him knew that he had been close to Aerith. She was the right one to follow, to be led to. He fathomed that she would have been the one he was looking for when he was alone in the dark and that he had come here, only because he was certain that she had answered.

But she had no blue light in her. He knew that now. Knew it like he knew there would be stars on a clear night sky.

“What’s wrong?” She asked. Worried, when she saw the sad expression on his face.

“I… gods…” He chuckled, pulled a stunt to distract her. “I just realized that I am completely naked.”

She blushed again and he chuckled for a second time. “May I ask you for a favor if only this once?”

She nodded slowly and he said, playfully, what she had expected him to say. “I need a set of clothes so I can get on my way.”

He thought to himself that he wasn’t hurt at least. And when she spoke again and insisted that he would need help with more than just a set of clothes, he knew that he was safe.

If only for the moment.

  
  


######  _ ~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~ _

Cloud’s eyes focus slowly.

Blinking hard to see through a veil of burning white pain, he tries to make sense of his surroundings. 

The world is still blurry around him, but there is one thing that grounds him instantly. 

It is who is lying next to him. He doesn’t need good eyes to recognize him, his dark angel. Sephiroth sleeps peacefully, sheltered by one of his wings. He has the giant appendage wrapped around himself like a blanket. 

Cloud blinks hazily. The world around him comes into focus way too slowly.

The dim light that’s falling in through the top window - large enough for Sephiroth to use it to enter this place - aids Cloud’s tired eyes. He sees now that the place is large enough for Sephiroth to sleep with his wings out. 

With enough pillows and whatever else he could find to make the place comfortable, some lose feathers here and there. Their enormous size gives Cloud an almost uncanny feeling. He cannot tell if the place reminds him of a nest because, quite literally spoken, a giant birdman sleeps here, or because of the way in which it is designed. Wonders if Sephiroth made it so consciously, or if he went by a form follows function approach. 

Cloud’s head is so heavy that even moving his eyes seems like an enormous burden. He sees the remnants of Sephiroth’s leather jacket lying in one corner. Some bloody bandages in another. A carafe with water and two glasses sits close to the blonde. He wonders for how long he has been unconscious and if Sephiroth had been looking over him the whole time.

The face of the dark angel betrays nothing. He looks exhausted, even in his sleep. It makes Cloud’s heart sink . He doesn’t want to be a burden. But despite his worries, there is another feeling in his chest that is hard to ignore, too. 

It feels like joy. For the first time since Gaia knows how long. Since he sees Sephiroth being alive and well… any version of him… it doesn’t really matter which.

The sight of the dark angel transfixes Cloud. From Sephiroth’s peaceful face and what he can see of his chest, still covered by his black shirt, although it is quite torn from his fight with the wyvern, to his silver hair and how it is fanned out behind him. The soft feathers of his wing move along as his chest raises and lowers with his breath.

Those huge, soft feathers shining in their impressive colors - he just cannot take his eyes off them. Cloud had seen his Sephiroth’s wing for only a moment. Pitch black and of enormous size, feathers looking strong and stiff. Some of them quite ruffled because of the desolate state that the man had been in. Still, under normal circumstances no less beautiful than what he is seeing now, just different.

Since the man next to him has two wings, each one is a little smaller than what Cloud had seen on the Sephiroth of his world but no less impressive. 

The feathers look well-groomed, too. Cloud wonders how he does it. Feels tempted to reach out and touch the wing where it is closest to him.

Just to wince from a sharp pain in his head. Cloud realizes only now how his whole body is shaking. 

Sephiroth stirs. After all that Cloud knows about the other man, he probably was on high alert even when sleeping. 

Sephiroth frowns, stirs again, the giant wing jolting softly, once, twice, then his eyes snap open and he stares into Cloud like a wild animal. 

Cloud lies motionless, he just stares back into those green serpent eyes and waits for Sephiroth to make sense of the situation. For a way too long neither of them says a word. The only thing Cloud hears is the clattering of his own teeth as his body is shaking from a terrible coldness that not even the blanket, which has been so carefully wrapped around him, can still. Frustrated, he pulls his knees to his chest and rolls himself into a tiny ball. Hands clawing at the blanket. Hoping desperately that this would improve anything in his situation.

“Still not feeling better...?” Sephiroth finally says in a low voice, his green eyes darting all over Cloud’s form. He sounds as exhausted as he looks.

“I... d... don’t know…” Cloud stutters helplessly. “How long…?”

“Two days,” Sephiroth says softly. “I’ve watched over you for most of the time. Must have fallen asleep once you seemed to be better…” He stops himself in his tracks, as he looks at Cloud’s face and his shaking body. “At least you’re awake now so I guess that’s an improvement…?”

To that Cloud doesn’t know what to say. He crosses his arms tighter around his chest as his body continues to shake uncontrollably. “...So... cold…”

“I know…” Sephiroth says in a sympathetic tone. “I already gave you all my blankets.”

Right. When one has two giant fluffy wings to keep them warm and comfy, they wouldn’t have much need for blankets. 

“Make a... fire…?” Cloud stutters.

“I am spent...” Sephiroth says in a low tone, avoiding the blonde’s gaze. And despite his body fighting him in a fight of his own, Cloud figures then that the other, besides watching over him for two days, must have used a number of healing spells to keep the blonde from slipping into an even worse state.

They both seem to share great exhaustion. Just that Cloud seems to be the only one who is so terribly cold at the moment. And by each breath he draws, it becomes more and more unbearable. His body shaking more violently with every passing moment.

“Then I w… will…” With great effort, Cloud raises his hand, ready to labor on a fire spell.

Sephiroth’s hand is suddenly on his, holding it down. “In your current state you’d just set us both on fire...!” 

“Wh.. what should I do, then…?” Cloud asks desperately. He hopes that Sephiroth doesn’t expect him to just suffer through this, since he quite certainly can’t.

With an exhausted huff, Sephiroth let’s go of Cloud’s hand and collapses back on his side. A moment passes and he just stares at the blonde, as though he was haggling over something with himself. He then sighs deeply. “I’ll make an exception, but just this once.”

Cloud cannot make sense of what the older man is talking about, he just looks back at him shaking, teeth clattering.

“Don’t freak out, okay?” Sephiroth says to Cloud as he lifts his wing slowly, extends it then, and lowers it carefully so that it now covers the blonde, too. Cloud lies very still and stares, amazed, as the huge appendage comes to rest on his body. The wing feels like a heavy blanket. Yet it is soft and cozy and there is a warmth coming from it, pooling through his tormented body and it makes Cloud sigh with deep relief. 

He looks up to find an expression of uncertainty on Sephiroth’s face, his body tense and stiff. Understands that moment how much it takes the other man to keep himself so close to the blonde. How it takes everything he has to not withdraw his wing again.

“Thank you.” Cloud breathes, feeling so much better not only from the warmth but the touch, too. “I know it’s not easy.”

Sephiroth’s eyes darken in grim understanding. 

“I had vowed to myself to never get close to the likes of you again. Yet here I am…”

“You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to.”

“I don’t have enough blankets to keep you warm and you would set the place on fire otherwise.” Sephiroth grins darkly. “So the wing it is.”

Cloud bites his lip again. Being so sheltered and warm on one hand, while on the other knowing that he is  _ not wanted _ … both feelings are colliding heavily within him, waging a battle of their own. The conflict must be written all over Cloud’s face since suddenly, Sephiroth’s stiff pose softens and he speaks in that low voice again that Cloud finds so soothing.

“Cloud I… Okay; I’ll admit that I could be wrong and you’re a fine guy. I just can’t take any risks. 

Being careful... It's what‘s helped me survive over the years. So I’ll have to keep a certain distance between us.”

The blonde looks up, meeting the other’s eyes again. Sephiroth’s words would be enough if words were all Cloud needed. But he can feel him, too. Feels how much it takes Sephiroth to be that close to him, to just tolerate the blonde being no more than an arm’s length away.

How much it pains him to be tied to the younger one for now, how badly he wants to leave and be on his way. Once the crystal has left Cloud’s body, Sephiroth will abandon him and Cloud will be alone, again. 

_ He resents me and I deserve nothing else, _ Cloud thinks bitterly.

Another moment passes and the silence between them is not helping. It only draws Cloud deeper into his thoughts, thoughts that he can’t bear at the moment. 

Could as well try to…

“How... many places have you been to?”

To Cloud’s surprise, Sephiroth answers that question without hesitation. “Too many…”

“And you could… never stay for long because of the ones ‘like’ me?” Cloud asks now. “I want to… understand that part of you at least. If you are willing to share.” 

There is that look on the other man’s face again that Cloud has learned means that he is wrangling with himself. Conflicted. Wondering how much he can trust the other. Cloud wishes that he could do anything to prove that he is trustworthy, but after all he has done in his past, he knows that he has not deserved that trust anyway. 

Sephiroth focuses Cloud when he speaks again. As though to make sure that he doesn’t say too much.

“There can only be one of each…” He says finally, still studying Cloud’s face before he continues. “One Sephiroth. One Cloud. It’s a universal rule. So the only places I can go to are those where ‘I’ was never born, or where ‘I’ have died.” 

Sephiroth pauses, there is a sadness in his eyes. To Cloud’s surprise, he decides to continue anyway. “You and I seem to be universally intertwined. Which means that to whichever place I go, there usually is a version of you. And in most cases you are hostile towards me, to say it mildly.”

Cloud feels that he is shaking again, but not from the cold this time. A grim realization dawning on him. “And in the few cases when I wasn’t…?”

There is this moment of silence between them before Sephiroth speaks again.

“I didn’t dare to find out, to be honest. The hostile variants of you usually are strong and deadly and the cause of ‘my’ death. I did my best to never stay around any place that had ‘a Cloud’ for too long.”

Cloud knows too well what it feels like to be alone, and when it feels like there is no place you can call your home. He doesn’t want to think about how it seems to be a universal theme that Sephiroth must be on the run or die. The blonde himself is as guilty when it comes to the other’s suffering as the Cloud’s from the other worlds. And while there might have been versions of Sephiroth who had deserved their deaths, neither the Sephiroth from his own world nor the one he has before him, seem to be one of those.

Cloud hates how the stress makes him shiver again, his eyes have slipped from the silver-haired man’s gaze, as though looking at him would admit to a guilt that is too heavy to carry. The wing around his back and shoulders feels heavier suddenly. Cloud blinks, comprehending slowly that Sephiroth is hugging him tighter. That he seems to assume that it is the cold that is rocking through Cloud’s body and makes him shiver. Not something else.

“You ok…?” Sephiroth breathes and the thought that regardless of who Cloud is, the other is still taking care of him makes Cloud shake even more. Instinctively, his hand touches soft feathers as he searches for something to hold on to. Sephiroth stirs momentarily but does not pull his wing away. He allows Cloud to shift his body and bury himself into his feathers even deeper.

When Cloud finally speaks again, his face is half hidden under the dark wing. 

“And... the places where I was never born or where I died?” 

Sephiroth’s gaze darkens. Finally, he says. “Those places weren’t safe, either.”

“So you are being hunted then? By someone else than ‘me’?” Cloud asks now.

Sephiroth ponders again as though to decide what information to give Cloud this time. “I... am not sure if I want to share all of that with you at the moment. To be frank, if you were lying to me then letting you live could be the biggest mistake I have ever made in my long life.”

“How old are you exactly?”

“I am not sure. Time flows differently between the realms.” 

  
Sephiroth falls silent again and it is obvious that this is all the dark angel is willing to share with Cloud at the moment.

Cloud decides to not push it further. He is painfully aware that the other man owes him nothing. Except for telling him about one thing, perhaps.

“Can you at least tell me what this Crystal is, then?”

“It’s what’s going to kill you if we do the wrong thing, now,” Sephiroth says dryly.

“Funny.” Cloud snorts.

Sephiroth takes another moment to consider, then sighs. “Okay, fine. It contains a portion of my energy. When I traveled this time, I almost didn’t make it. I nearly shattered upon arrival.”

“You nearly… shattered...?”

“Traveling requires a lot of energy. And... I almost lost my way between the realms…”

“Oh…”

“But... to keep it simple. Those crystals aren’t meant for you. You and I are of a different layout. We aren’t even from the same world. So it is safe to assume that it would have most likely killed you if I hadn’t kept you afloat.”

Cloud nods slowly to that. What Sephiroth doesn’t say, but Cloud knows it anyway, is that he still is at risk of dying. But at least he knows what is going to kill him, then, Cloud thinks. And at least he would be finding his conclusion embraced by Sephiroth’s wing. Its warm and tight touch soothing the cold and pain that were rocking his body just moments ago. 

Cloud’s eyes feel heavy.

Feeling safe and warm under Sephiroth’s wing, there is nothing that keeps him from drifting back into sleep.

He realizes absently how they are suddenly closer. 

Buries his head into the other’s shoulder then. Dazed by his scent and the soft movements of his chest as he breathes. Just wants to be held even if it is just for once. 

The other’s hands are on Cloud’s back then, kneading him gently, and Cloud holds on to him, half asleep, half awake. His mind and body are, both, settling at this peaceful place. A place of which he had thought that he would never see it again. 

And finally, Cloud feels like he can let go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It won't be too much of a spoiler to mention that there will be more of what you just got in the next chapter. :P
> 
> Also a thousand thanks again to my writer's family! I have no idea what I would do without you! <3  
> Oh and Merry XMas to all of you! And what a great week it was to see our favorite boy join Smash Brothers! I hope you guys are enjoying him as much as I am. ;)


	8. Life Burns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It seems that Cloud is not the only one who needs a hug.

## 8 Life Burns

(Playlist: Apocalyptica - Call My Name)

  
  


He can’t tell why but for some reason, Sephiroth always knows when he is dreaming.

He likes the lucid ones the most. Those special dreams that allow him to just escape reality for a little while. Sometimes they allow him to relive long past better times.

Today isn’t such a day, however.

Today he finds himself in the void again. Spreading his wings wide as he keeps himself steady, he sees nothing but the all too familiar blackness around him. Just the way it was when he crossed over. But he is not afraid, since he is not alone.

Not far from him, like a little flame, a blue light sits in the darkness. He knows that it is the same one that led him here.

Like a moth, mesmerized, he flies until all he has to do is reach out to touch it with his fingertips.

He stops himself in his tracks, his finger mere inches away from the little blue flame. Something is odd this time. Different.

When he crossed the realms it was big enough to swallow him whole. But now it is small enough to fit into the palms of his hands.

He reaches out to it. Slowly. Touches it. Feels how it is cold in a way, longing for warmth.

Small and fading as it is sitting there in front of him, it gives him the urge to hold it close and shelter it. Protect it from the outside world so he can keep it from fading away. He reaches out and embraces it carefully.

In his arms, the little flame dances softly, happily. Emitting its fading light on him. 

His hands are not enough to warm it, so he wraps his whole body around it carefully. His wings, too. Embracing it fully, until he and the light seem to be connected. He allows his warmth to pool over and feels the other’s warmth in return. 

In this state of endless peace, the embrace reminds him of whom he had once loved with everything he was, everything he had.

_ _ _

He opens his eyes to a feeling of deep comfort. 

There is this other, shorter body snuggled into him with his head resting on his shoulder, while the arms of the shorter one are buried somewhere at Sephiroth’s chest. 

The dark angel recognizes absently how he has embraced the blonde with his arms and wings. Holding him tenderly like a fragile thing that needs to be protected. 

A knowing emerges deep inside of him. In his arms… it’s Cloud. 

Warm and familiar in ways he shouldn’t. Broadcasting ever too openly those vibes of... yearning and… and Sephiroth’s own traitorous body had heeded the call. Pulled Cloud close and embraced him when they were both sound asleep.

And now… now they’re close in ways he’d never wanted to be close to anyone ever again. Least of all Cloud. But here they are, and he has his arms and wings wrapped so tight around them both so he wouldn’t be able to just let him go even if he wanted to. As though he was enveloping both of them inside a soft and warm cocoon. Protecting them from the outside world.

With his hands on the other’s back, he can feel the muscles move as the other breathes peacefully in his sleep. His body is bulkier in a way than what Sephiroth is used to know from Cloud. But then again, this one is filled with Mako to the brim. His body seemingly accepted the treatment well. And he looked like he was in his early twenties. The war with Wutai ended around a year ago - around the time when Sephiroth arrived here. If Cloud had seen all of it, then on top of the Mako treatment his body was probably steeled from lots of hard training for years.

At Sephiroth’s shoulder, Cloud releases a sigh of deep comfort suddenly as he sinks even deeper into the other man. 

And only now the silver-haired man realizes that he has been kneading the other’s back once his mind was absent. 

Like a child afraid that it could get caught in his attempt to steal candy, Sephiroth lies very still. 

Just why does he always fall back into old habits once he allows his mind to wander?

In his arms, held way too tight, pressed way too close into his chest, and feeling way too comfortable there, lies the blonde whom Sephiroth had threatened to kill just two days earlier. Sleeping peacefully, breathing steady.

It feels like … 

like in the old days.

With the same familiar warmth to it, the same tenderness and comfort. He buries his head in golden, spiky hair, just holding Cloud close like that, losing himself in that moment. 

It’s like coming home, almost. 

It’s the same, yet it feels different because…

It’s not him. He is a different one.

There it is again, that voice in the back of his mind, the same voice that has helped him escape and stay alive for all these years. The voice that urges him to run whenever he is getting too close to one of ‘them’. That protects him from flying too close to the sun, once he has gotten dragged into its orbit.

And suddenly, the connection is cut.

Just like that. 

And Cloud is not that warm in his arms anymore. Sephiroth blinks confused, not ready to let go. Cloud did not harm him. All he wanted to do was help. 

_He is a different one_ , he tells himself as though he wants to argue with that voice that urges him to get away. _Stay calm._

And as though he wants to prove it to himself, he closes his eyes and looks for the light again, Cloud’s light. Blue, and cold in a way… which makes it easy to find.

So easy to find that it was quite a shock to him when he saw its owner in the slums for the first time. 

Just sensing it had left him transfixed, needing to know who its owner was, wanting them to be closer. 

Just to freeze in shock when he set his eyes on Cloud. The blonde man looked so dark and strong and radiated this type of power that Sephiroth knew he had to stay away from.

And then those blue Mako eyes had snapped up suddenly and looked right in his direction. Cloud had been on him instantly. From that very moment that Sephiroth had gotten too close into his orbit, the blonde had been on the pursuit. And his blue light had been shining brightly all the time. 

The same blue light that had brought Sephiroth here, of that he had thought that it had saved his life, had just pulled him into the arms of another hunter and he was far from strong enough to even remotely think about leaving this world for the next one.

Cloud’s light was at its strongest when Sephiroth was in the colosseum and afterward, when he was trying to slip away, using the crowd as a shield, it was impossible not to see and feel it.

It had been so bright then, that it was almost blinding. Its pull, a delight otherwise, torturous now that he fought so hard to get away from it.

So it should be easy to find, 

easy to find... 

But there is nothing.

Sephiroth frowns and looks again. How can that be? They are so close, he is holding the other in his arms. They’ve practically been linked together, how can he…? 

**Where are you?**

He looks again, focuses all he has on finding him again. He knows that Cloud’s body which he holds in such a tight embrace should be alright at the moment. But in a world where living beings run on life energy, that has a strong connection to magic and spirit, the body’s wellbeing is not the only thing that matters. Even if the lights in Cloud’s world are of a different color and temperature, and not all of them are visible to him, Sephiroth understood the similarities which they have to the ones of his own world the moment he saw the blue light for the first time. 

Its absence is alarming.

**_Cloud! Where have you gone?_ **

Nothing.

Suddenly he is afraid.

He opens his eyes, looks down at the other whom he is still sheltering with arms and wings. “Cloud…,” he says softly but the blonde does not stir.

He unwraps him carefully from his tight embrace and turns him on his back. Sits up on his knees then and inspects him worried. Cloud was fine just moments ago but now he is turning colder rapidly and breathing only faintly. 

He nudges him by his shoulder carefully. “Cloud.”

Nothing.

Sephiroth lowers his head and closes his eyes again.

Was it his fault that the other’s light had become weaker gradually after he had absorbed the crystal? Because despite Cloud’s sacrifice, Sephiroth had rejected him?

Their bodies aren’t of the same layout, can’t possibly be compatible. 

So even if Sephiroth continued to share his energy with the blonde, Cloud would need an ounce of his own will to live. A spark that could only be lit by his own will. No one else could take that burden from him.

**_Cloud… hey…_ **

**_Where did you go?_ **

He calls again, more desperate than before. Shattered and chaotic as his memories may be of all that happened before he arrived here, he is quite certain now that he misjudged the younger man. After all, he does not know what happened between this Cloud and his Sephiroth. Dead as he may be, it is possible that, for once, Cloud is not the cause. 

**_Cloud!_ **

**_Come back to me…_ **

He calls again and again into the void, changing the direction ever so slightly every time he calls, focusing hard to not miss even the slightest hint of the other’s light.

But the void remains dark. An endless blackness. He has devoted himself to his task so fully that he can sense his whole body being engulfed by it now. It forces him to use his wings for support again. He doesn’t like diving that deep, but he has to find Cloud.

_What happened to you?_ He wonders.

_That you are just willing to let go so easily. Without a fight._

It is not unlike Cloud to suffer from depression. It is what most of the ones he had seen were struggling with. Either that or PTSD. They had still, however, usually possessed a will to live.

This one seems to feel guilty for something that pushes him down enough to be willing to just let go once a certain point is reached. And for some reason, Sephiroth now finds that more alarming than if the other was filled with energy to the brim and threatened to kill him right here right now.

**Come on, buddy...**

**You’ve made it this far.**

**You can’t give up now!**

He is focusing so hard that the void is beginning to feel cold and threatening around him. Almost as though danger awaits again once they both would be spending too much time here.

Sephiroth bits his lip in frustration.

Sighs deeply.

If charming the blonde doesn’t work, then...

**Hey Icequeen, I know you’re here somewhere!**

**Don’t you want to hear me apologize at least before you’re fading for good?**

**...**

**I know you’re here, Icequeen!**

Finally…

There it is. 

Small and faint, but… it has this aura around it that Sephiroth had learned to identify when he had tried to get away from him. He flies closer carefully, worried that one flap could set off a gust too strong for the little flame to withstand.

He reaches for it slowly, holds it tenderly between his palms then. Cradling it with his hands.

**_Hey,_ **

**_Look..._ **

**_I am sorry if what I did upset you._ **

He says to the light, half desperate, half relieved. 

He knows that he cannot simply reestablish their link right now but he can at least try to make Cloud understand that putting some energy into surviving is worth it.

**_I understood too little, too late. But I get it now._ **

The light shines a little brighter so Sephiroth speaks on.

**_You needed someone like me to tell you that you still have a purpose in this life even after all that happened to you, right?_ **

**_Well, guess what. I can tell you something even better._ **

**_You saved my life out there, Icequeen._ **

He says it with a smirk on his face. Aware that even his praise comes with a glimmer of mockery.

**_And guess what? I am grateful you did._ **

**_I just don’t like admitting it._ **

**_So, Cloud._ **

**_If I can admit to needing your help, then you can fight for just a little longer, can’t you?_ **

**_Don’t give up now._ ** ****

Below him, the blonde stirs with an exhausted moan. The noise pulls them both from the void instantly. 

“I am here, Cloud.” Sephiroth says softly, now knowing that this is what the younger one needs to hear the most. “I won’t leave you.”

Cloud opens his eyes with great effort. But they light up the moment he sees the silver-haired man’s face. Sees that the other man is genuinely worried not of, but for him.

“Wh- what…?”

“You were drifting off… I … 

I can’t keep you afloat forever, it seems.” Sephiroth bites his lip, the exhausted look on Cloud’s face hides nothing and Sephiroth understands that sharing his energy with him only postpones the inevitable. 

Seeing Cloud in that desolated state even when he decides to hold on to life only confirms that they need help from someone else… someone who knows much more about magic than Sephiroth himself ever would, and that soon.

With a swift motion, he grabs his jacket and begins to carefully wrap Cloud into it. The blonde just lies still and looks the silver-haired man over while he works with those surprisingly large and blue eyes of his. 

“Listen, Cloud. I may not like the kind of you but that doesn’t mean that I want to see you die.”

He searches for Cloud’s eyes again to make sure that he is still awake.

“You just wanted to help. You saved my life and that makes you my responsibility, which means that if you ever die, it’ll be with my sword driven through your chest - and that quite certainly won’t happen today!” 

Sephiroth stares into Cloud’s blue eyes that are only shining faintly now, hardly able to hide the worry and frustration in his gaze and voice. Cloud just smiles back at him warmly, but he says nothing. 

“Talk to me,” Sephiroth says, worry and frustration in his voice, and Cloud’s smile only grows wider.

“I hear you…,” the blonde breathes finally. 

Sephiroth’s eyes dart all over Cloud in worry as he understands that he needs to keep their connection open until they get help - even though that requires a great amount of discipline on his side. A constant reminder necessary that ‘he is not him’, but a different one.

“Okay now, there is one thing that I need you to do. Promise me that you will do it.” Sephiroth says, determined. He stares into Cloud intently until it looks like he has Cloud’s full attention. “After all that I know of you, I trust that you can see my light?”

Cloud closes his eyes, and for a brief moment, Sephiroth feels his touch, there, in the void and he fights hard to keep himself open to it. Cloud nods slowly, that smile still all over his face. “You’re so warm...,” he says softly.

It touches Sephiroth more than he wants to admit. He blinks, there is no time for that now. 

“I am going to take you to somebody who, I hope, can help us.” He stares at the blonde who has slowly opened his eyes again. “I want you to hold on to my light until we arrive. Can you do that for me?”

Cloud nods again.

“Good!” Sephiroth carefully gathers Cloud into his arms. He feels cold even with the Jacket around him. Not good. Sephiroth swears silently. Just why did that goddamn idiot not rely on his own powers and tried to stack it up using something of which he had no idea what side effects it would have? They’d have to talk about this once Cloud’s better.

If he gets better, that is. 

Sephiroth swears silently as he carries Cloud outside and kicks the door close behind him. Since his journey started, this is the first Cloud whose life he actively tries to save. 

“Please don’t make me regret this.”

He grunts as he kicks off into the sky and prays that he’ll find Aerith at the old church tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to my "writer's family" for your support!  
> The English language can be "quite a bitch sometimes" to quote Relics here, LOL. XD  
> \---
> 
> You better buckle up cause ch 9 is going to take an unexpected turn.


	9. His Angel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, thank you so much for your support! Your comments are really helping me to keep going.  
> We are THAT CLOSE to a super important reveal. Stay tight!
> 
> This chapter is about how alternate Sephiroth (the one you have been seeing since ch3) met his Cloud for the first time.
> 
> Warning: Some slight angst in the first section of the chapter (needles and the labs). You can jump to ‘The day his angel came’ to skip it.

##  9 His Angel

(If you want this to be extra sad:

Frostpunk OST Damned Souls - Piotr Musial)

  
  
  


Sephiroth was four years old. 

He lay on a bed of grey plastic, his body barely covered by white, thin blankets. Above him blinding lights. Around him familiar faces. They belonged to doctors and scientists. 

Once he was old enough to talk, they had explained to him that he was not like other children. He was special and that meant that he needed special supervision. 

They could not allow him to play with other children because of said condition, so the lab people were the only people he ever spent time with - and the ones he felt closest to. The toys they gave him were hardly appropriate for a child of his age. What would he find interesting about a ballpoint pen and a clipboard, for example? 

He did not question it, however, since he did not know what other children used to play with. And professor Gast had given the clipboard and the pen to him, and Sephiroth liked professor Gast a lot. He was always kind and friendly and he always spoke to him like he was a real person. 

So Sephiroth would just doodle while he waited. He drew little sketches of equipment that caught his eye. And if he had a chance to see them - the lab rats.

To him this was normal. To him, this was how children with a special condition spent their days.

The doctors said, too, that his body was unusually weak and susceptible to sickness, so his blood work required to be checked constantly.

He was a curious kid so he watched them do it. Watched them inspect the veins in his arms. Heard them praise him since his veins were so easy to find, their blue color standing out vividly on his pale skin. He watched, still, when the needle was injected. The doctors were gentle when they did it. As though his skin was made of paper and required special care.

It hardly hurt at all. The blood was withdrawn quickly, vial after vial, and they smiled at him warmly and praised him for being such a good boy.

He was not afraid. 

He even longed to see the doctors and the scientists, was it the time when he was given the most attention, care, and warmth. And professor Gast was usually there, too.

He was not afraid.

He was a special child after all and he would be good and wait and play on his own until, one day, they would have found a cure for his condition. And on that special day, they would tell him that he could finally leave the laboratory and play with other children.

He was not afraid.

Since it were always the same kind faces and gentle hands that took care of him. 

He felt well looked after when they measured his weight and size. Asked him to perform this and that task to evaluate his intelligence. And when they took his blood.

He was not afraid, 

until he was.

He was five years old, and suddenly the faces he saw were no longer the kind and familiar ones that he had grown so attached to. They said to him that there was no reason to worry, but they would remain silent when he asked where everyone had gone and why not even professor Gast would be with him anymore. He heard a man with an old face and a dark ponytail say something about efficiency, then, but he was not talking to him. 

The man, if he looked Sephiroth in the eye at all, regarded Sephiroth with cold, calculating eyes. He was so scary. 

From that day on, the scary man would watch. He would always watch.

It made Sephiroth feel sick to the bones.

Sephiroth was smiled at again, but it wasn’t for his sake. The smile came from a pride that one expresses when they feel delighted that they are given such a rare specimen to study. They did not tell him anymore that he was a special child with special needs. Instead, they said he was the first of his kind. “What we will do with you will help so many that will come after. Aren’t you proud of that?”

Sephiroth wasn’t proud. 

Sitting on the corner of the bed as they had told him to, his naked feet dangling in the cold air, he had his lips pressed to a thin line, fighting back tears. Where had everybody gone? Why had they forsaken him? Had he not been good? Had he done something wrong? It must be a punishment, surely. One that he did not understand. Why else wouldn’t anyone tell him anything but hollow words?

Fighting the tears and forcing himself to sit still took all the energy the little boy could muster. If he was good now, perhaps they would allow him to go back to the people he knew. 

Once they were done with him. 

Yes, he told himself. He just needed to be good and it would be okay.

But they were never done with him.

The doctors placed a book on the table by the bed. They said it was a book for children but Sephiroth did not find it interesting. How could he, when next to him someone was preparing needles larger than the ones he was used to. He saw other equipment, too. Among it some vials with a green liquid that was foreign to him. The doctors ordered him to look at the book while they would inject the needle. It would be over quick, they said.

Sephiroth did not want to look at the book and its pictures, it seemed to make little sense to him to do such a thing while they were using that scary equipment on him. 

He was told “No!” harshly when he wanted to turn his head. And suddenly he was held by force. Two people were behind him. They held his head and they held his arms. Turned his head, forced him to look at the book as his little body tensed from fear and stress.

He cried out when the needle broke through the skin of his tensed shoulder. It was an injection, he understood that now. As he sat there shaking and restrained, eyes filling with tears despite his will for them not to, it hurt more than he had ever thought such a thing could hurt.

And the scary man would watch them through a window from the other room. A stern look on his face, his arms crossed over his chest.

From that day on, Sephiroth resented the lab. He resented the new scientists and doctors, too, and he would retreat from them whenever they wanted to touch him. When they came with the needles, he would cry and beg for them to not hurt him, but they said that this was not a choice he could make. When he wasted them too much time, they would just restrain him more, and go on with their business.

They had left the books to him, though. Perhaps in hope that he would learn to distract himself with them. He used the books to learn instead. About what families were, and how other children lived. 

He cried in bitter despair one night when he understood that it was normal for children to have someone who would give them love and care.

It was called a family. And his family… couldn’t be those people who were dragging him out of his room each day to perform countless tests on him. The new doctors and scientists only cared about what they wanted. They did not listen to him. Nor did they hug or shelter him. He was given wooden toys, sometimes. Little animals or cars or… no one would ever play with him.

To them, even watching him play seemed to be a part of their studies. 

He figured quickly that he was just another rat to them, but even the rats were allowed to live in pairs. Sephiroth on the other hand was alone and forsaken, not allowed to be with anyone he could love and who would love him in return. And he did not know why.

  
  


\-----

On the day his angel came, 

he was in tears again.

He sat on the bed in the lab. All on his own this time - and he waited for the doctors.

Every passing night Sephiroth had wished for someone to come and be with him.

Someone other than these foreign doctors and scientists. Someone to get him out of this misery. 

He waited and waited, but no one came. He sat there with his head hanging and felt as lonely as never before. It was bad already, to be treated the way they treated him. To see no one at all seemed to be even worse, however.

He resented himself for thinking this way, but he could not help it.

A movement distracted him from his thoughts. 

He raised his head with tear-filled eyes. There was no doctor, it was someone else instead, someone new.

A young man, whose face he could hardly see against the blinding light of the labs, stood before him and Sephiroth had no idea how he could have gotten into the room.

He blinked confused, wondering if he was dreaming, as the labs seemed to be bathed in warm yellow-ish light.

Did the light protrude from the other? Sephiroth could not tell. But he had read of angels, seen pictures, too. And this young man looked so unlike anyone else he had seen in his short life. He must be such a divine being.

“There you are.” The angel said and smiled warmly. He had spiky hair, as golden as the light that surrounded him, and eyes as blue as a clear sky. “I have been looking everywhere for you.”

Sephiroth just stared back in awe. Never had he seen something so beautiful. The angel watched him patiently and seemed to wait for him to regain his wits.

“Are... you an angel?” Was all Sephiroth could muster.

The blonde man smiled at him. A smile of true affection. “If you wish to, you can call me that.”

His eyes then darted to Sephiroth’s tear stained face, and there was something else on his face. Compassion…?

“Hmm… I wonder what we can do about those tears.” The angel gently brushed his thumbs over Sephiroth’s face. He tucked some of Sephiroth’s stray hair behind his ear, then and Sephiroth was in awe at how someone could feel so warm and familiar. The doctors and scientists usually wore plastic gloves when they handled him. These felt warm in a way. But they also had that foreign texture to them, that made them feel like something alien. Something not skin like. Something that was not what Sephiroth was craving for so badly.

“Better.” The angel said when the boy’s tears were dried. “Now let’s get you some company.” 

The angel reached for his back and retrieved something from there. Slowly, carefully.

“Look,” he held out his hands to Sephiroth, cradling something small and soft.

It was a rat. Its fur was as white as snow and its eyes as red as the dying sun. Sephiroth had only ever seen the lab rats from a distance. How they were held in little cages and then experimented on. Just like himself. This was likely why he felt so drawn to them. 

“He can be yours.” The angel said softly, offering the rat to the boy. “Do you want him?”

Sephiroth sobbed his tears away and nodded.

The young man took another step forward. He reached out and lowered the rat carefully until it came to balance itself on Sephiroth’s little hands and raised its nose to take its surroundings in. 

  
  
  


“Now all that’s missing is a name,” the angel said to him as he took a step back. His eyes moved over Sephiroth’s form slowly. As though he was assessing him now that the boy had calmed down. When he was done, his eyes snapped back up and he looked right into Sephiroth’s eyes with a melancholic sigh.

That was it. He had seen what Sephiroth was and found that he was not good enough… good enough to… good enough for…?

A moment of silence stretched between them and then the angel spoke again.

“Will you do that for me? Give him a name…”

Gone was the worried expression. In its place was that smile that was as warm as the light that seemed to be all around him, but it was less genuine than it had been the first time. Still, Sephiroth wondered how the other did that. Found composure so quickly. He wanted the skill to do that, too. Perhaps he could make himself cry less, then. And perhaps this would be seen and rewarded and perhaps...

He saw how the angel looked over his shoulder, how he stared into the light at something that Sephiroth could not see. The blonde lowered his head and took a step back, then.

Sephiroth felt his little chest tighten because this seemed like a goodbye.

He bit his lip to fight back a fresh wave of tears and nodded. Yes, he would give the little furball a name, just, please...

“Good,” the angel said and took another step back. He turned his head to look behind him again. “It is time for me to go.”

So he was leaving! But he had just gotten here, why would he…?

“Stay!”

Despite his will, Sephiroth's body had jumped to his feet. Still holding the rat carefully in his little hands, the boy stared at the epiphany, wishing he could be stronger, older. Wishing he could be somebody who the angel would look at not with a frown, but with pride on his face. Wishing for the other to see him as someone who could impress him enough so he would want to stay with him.

The angel smiled down at him, but his eyes were sad.

“I can’t stay, Sephiroth. I am sorry.”

His legs carried Sephiroth without his conscious will. Before he knew it he was straining his neck to look up and meet the blue eyes of a young man who was so strong, so wise, and graceful. He was all that Sephiroth wanted but was afraid he could never be.

“Then take me with you!” The tears filled his eyes again. He could not be left alone here again. Not like this. Unloved and alone. He would perish in the most torturous way.

The angel knelt and took Sephiroth’s hands, which were still cradling the rat, into his own. His warmth spilled over to the boy’s skin once more and Sephiroth felt a strong urge to just be taken into the epiphany’s arms and be held so he could find comfort. Just like any other child.

When the angel spoke again, his voice was carefully composed and Sephiroth wondered what it was that he was not telling him.

“Listen to me, Sephiroth. I know that this is tough for you. And I’m afraid there’s hardly anything I can say to make it better. Except, perhaps, that there is always a right place and a right time. 

At the moment you are right where you belong and I am right where I belong. And even though this means that I cannot stay with you for now… I can still watch over you. And I will return once the time has come.”

The angel raised his hand and gently brushed over Sephiroth’s cheek again. Brushed away the new stream of tears that had formed there, and then he lay his hands on Sephiroth’s shoulders. Sephiroth just bit his lips and said nothing. 

He wasn’t even strong enough to fight back his tears, how could he expect a divine being like that which he saw before him to have any use for him? He understood that he was being looked over again, the other seemed to be in thoughts, a frown on his face as he seemed to consider…

Sephiroth stood very still and waited, not daring to look into the other’s eyes again. Too afraid that it would only make him cry more, and that he would only hate himself more because of it. 

“Hey, Sephiroth…” The blonde said finally. He put a finger under the boy’s chin and lifted his head gently. “Do not worry. There is nothing to fear. I will make it so no one hurts you like that ever again. I will make it so you’ll be allowed to keep your rat. And I will make it so they’ll let you have friends. If you watch your back just for a little, then they will not break you. All that’s left for you to do then is hold on until I come back.”

“And when… when is that, you think…? When will I be strong enough...?”

Sephiroth blurted, too confused between anxiety and excitement to sort his thoughts proper.

The angel rose to his full height slowly, his eyes still trained on the boy with that thoughtful frown on his face. “You will grow a lot and get stronger. So much, in fact, that one day they’ll begin to teach you the art of the sword. That’ll be the clue. Just be good and train hard. Everything will be just fine then.”

It was painful to let go. To feel the warmth leaving him as the hand was withdrawn from his chin. The angel took another step towards the light and then he was gone.

And just like that, Sephiroth was alone again.

He could have sworn that he had fantasized, his mind playing tricks as his loneliness had gotten the best of him. But he was still holding the rat close to his racing heart. There it sat. A silent witness. What he had just experienced had really happened. He had not dreamed and this was real.

So that meant that, if angels could exist, if someone could form a door of light just by will, and come for him, just for him….

Then Sephiroth would do as his angel had said. He would hold on and grow until he was as tall and strong as him. He would work hard and train even harder. And then he would be alone no more. It would all be worth it.

From that day on, the old former doctors and scientists returned and Sephiroth never saw that creepy man and his ponytail again.

The warmth and care he had been missing so much returned, too. 

There were fewer appointments, but he still had to take the injections. It was an uneasy feeling, still. As though the other doctors had done their best to make him fear the needles. “They just had no idea how to deal with children.” Professor Gast had said and sighed.

And then he had taken Sephiroth’s little hand and promised that he would make sure that none of the Mako injections would ever be painful again.

Something else changed, too. Sephiroth was introduced to another kid to play with shortly after. A boy from Banora. Angeal. Angeal had the kindest laugh and widest smile and the magic power to ground Sephiroth. He just seemed to sense whenever his friend was tense, and he just did and said the right things. Angeal’s empathy was unparalleled. 

And even though he was alone no more, and the rat had since been given a name, Sephiroth could not stop thinking of his angel. 

His life had improved so much since that one day when the epiphany had come to him. But it did not feel complete, still. He was not here. 

They had only exchanged a few words but Sephiroth knew that he had felt something connecting them. Something in the void that existed when you closed your eyes and looked for people’s lights. Angeal’s light, for example, was there. It was always there. He bathed in its warmth and it made him feel safer and calmer than he had ever felt before. 

Sephiroth was certain that his angel had one, too. He had just not known how to see it when he met him. He had only sensed it instead, but that was enough for him to know that it was there.

Sephiroth worked hard and trained even harder.

He saw his body grow, gain weight, and grow stronger. He soon found himself on a constant race with Angeal. They drove each other on. Who would grow taller, be faster, be stronger?

The day when he was finally taken to the training grounds and handed a sword for the first time was his personal milestone. He was eight years old and no longer a child and he was so proud when he lifted the sword. 

Balanced it on his hands for the first time. When they were told that they would be introduced to sparring partners and the swordmasters, Sephiroth’s heart beat wildly in his chest.

He stood and waited. Excited to see him. Each face a new hope. 

Each face not the one he was hoping to see. And then it dawned on him. His angel had not come. 

He lay wide awake at night, the rat sitting on his chest. Playing with the soft fur for comfort, Sephiroth mused what he could have done wrong.

Again and again, like he had done so many nights before, he replayed the encounter with his angel. And then it dawned on him. The beginning of his training would be... the first clue. The first clue meant that he had not reached his goal yet. He needed to learn his craft first. Grow and train. Show that he was worthy. And then, only then, his angel would return. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you have an idea already what is going on? ^_^  
> If you have any theories or questions, feel free to share them with me.  
> I love talking about stories, so don't be shy. <3
> 
> Needless to say, we are approaching some big reveals with lightspeed!


	10. Someone Like Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the continuation to chapter 8 when we were basically wondering: Will Cloud be alright?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Sorry that you had to wait for this chapter a little longer, I've been working on something in between - outlined my other story which is *dun dun dun* Omegaverse. I've got plans to post the first content for that one on the 21th this month. We'll see if I can get ready on time for that legendary deadline.  
> However, this fic here will still be my "main" fic so to speak, so you don't have to worry that it would be abandoned or anything!
> 
> Now I've got to say something about the tags.  
> You may (or may not :P) have noticed that there is a new pairing on the list.  
> Since we have more than one different Sephiroth, we have more than one pairing, even though Cloud/ Sephiroth is still OTP.  
> (There even is one more pairing that is mentioned in this very chapter, but I did not tag it to avoid spoilers.)
> 
> Genesis is about to hit this fic in chapter 11.  
> (I just think he is a great character when written properly. I love conflict so... d'uh.)  
> I won't make it too big to not distract too much from the main storyline - unless the SephGen fans among you speak up about wanting more. ;)
> 
> The main arc of alt.Cloud and alt.Seph is also supposed to kick off in ch11 so there is a lot of stuff going to happen from this point on.

## 

(Posted with permission. Source: [Click here for artist's Twitter :) ](https://twitter.com/DarkTownArt/status/1360076649400852482?s=20))

## 10 Someone Like Me 

( Vague Hope (Cold Rain) - Nier Automata OST)

  
  


The light. Look at the light. Hold on to it.

It’s important.

To focus on the light.

Stay with it.

As he is rolled into a ball, the light is all around him.

He feels neither hunger nor pain,

is not scared.

Since it has the same feeling to it as the angel’s light.

The angel has taken him, 

and he is safe for as long as he bathes in his light.

Existing without a concept of time,

nothing did matter to him.

He was with the light and he was fine.

Warm and sheltered and without worry.

Until.

Until…

It all turns upside down.

And he is moving.

Is torn away.

Wait...

Wait!

He’s torn away too fast, 

way too fast!

His body... 

It has the wrong size, the wrong weight.

It’s too big, too heavy. 

And it is…

He is…

His eyes flutter open. It’s hard to focus. He sees…

He sees.

A woman’s eyes. 

Warm. Rich. Green. 

Cradled by beautiful long eyelashes. 

Her face hovers above him. 

She regards him like she knows him well. 

He doesn’t recognize her. 

He stares at her for another moment.

Realizes then that she waits for him to say something. 

She waits. 

With all the patience a mother could have. Or a loving big sister.

“Who...?” He starts, at last, struggling for coherent thoughts.

Is that his voice? 

It is… different. That of an adult man.

And what is that expression on her face? Worry…? She sounds concerned as she speaks. “How are you feeling, Cloud?”

“Cloud…?” He frowns.

“That’s you,” she says. Her face fades in and out of focus as he tries to make sense of his surroundings. Eyes darting around aimlessly. They snap back to her as she speaks again. “You’re Cloud. Cloud Strife.”

No, no. This can’t be right. His mind runs in circles. He’s not getting anywhere. Cloud Strife. That name doesn’t make any sense to him, yet she said it like it had always been his.

“The labs…”

“You haven’t been to the labs for years, Cloud. We’re in the old church of Sector 5.”

There’s a concern in her voice now. She speaks to him as though she’s afraid that he could have forgotten something very important. 

“You’ve been here a couple of times.” She tries again. “Don’t you remember?” 

“I…” 

He looks at himself. At his own, adult body. His long limbs and strong chest. 

Was he… was that...?

“That felt too real for a dream…” he says absently. His mind still working hard to adjust to that new situation. Whatever happened to him before he woke - it was like he had spent years in that other, smaller body. The body of a child, the body of…

“Sephiroth…” Cloud’s eyes snap into focus suddenly. He stares at her gravely. “Where is he...?” 

She puts a hand on his chest when he tries to sit up, forcing him gently to lie back down on what seems to be a bedroll.

“He’s around, don’t worry. He… told me what happened.”

He sees that she is doing her best to compose herself but her face betrays her worry.

“So despite your obvious disorientation, how are you feeling?”

“Like a truck ran me over...” He blinks. The world is too bright, too loud, too heavy.

“Easy, now.” Her hand is on his cheek. Moving his head ever so slightly, making him look at her again. “I had to put quite some work into you to get you stable.”

“Getting me… stable?”

“Uh-huh.” She nods.

“What does that mean...?”

There’s that look on her face again. Telling him without words that she isn’t sure what to make of him and his ability to process what is real and what a dream. She seems to consider something, sighs then. He tries hard to figure out if she is annoyed with him suddenly and what he did to deserve such a reaction.

“What in Gaia’s name were you thinking, Cloud?” She says at last.

“You can’t just swallow random magical items and expect them to not harm your body! These crystals are bound to him, not you.”

The mention of the crystal rings a bell somewhere in the back of his mind. Small and golden it was, and when he swallowed it he felt incredibly strong, but just for a moment...

And then he was…

Oh. 

His weird dreams were probably connected to the crystal poisoning.

Unless…

No... 

He can’t make sense of anything right now. Getting a proper grasp on himself and his surroundings is the best he can do for now. 

“Right...I, uh… 

for how long have I been out this time?” 

“For a few hours. Until I had the crystal isolated.”

He knows that it’s too early to hope. Can’t hurt to ask anyway. “Am I healed, then?” 

“Well…” she starts and inhales deeply.

He cracks a pained grin at her.

“Let me guess. The crystal’s still inside me and will kill me unless we’ll find a way to remove it properly?”

She huffs, half amused, half annoyed.

“Seems like he’s already given you the talk, huh. He better…!

Anyway, when I assessed you, I could track the crystal and isolate its powers from you.

For now - 

But…

I found no way to extract it. I’m sorry, Cloud.”

A moment of silence stretches between them. Besides the utter confusion in his head, Cloud isn’t off too bad - he thinks. It could all be an illusion coming from the magic inflicted on him, though.

She takes his hand and squeezes it gently. “I’ll keep you under my watch for the next couple of days. This way we can hopefully figure out for just how long my magic can keep it sealed. And once we got that figured out, I guess you’ll be able to lead a fairly normal life. You’d just have to see your favorite doctor every now and then.” 

He nods to that, his head ringing painfully with every movement.

 _What else is there to be done, anyway?_ He thinks bitterly as regret worms darkly through his body.  
He should have never assumed that his own power wasn’t enough to kill the Wyvern.

And he should have never assumed that the crystal would be better off with him than with its designated owner. This is not his Sephiroth after all. The man can manage himself - and he is not close to the brink of insanity like the other one had been.

“Ow.” Cloud holds his head. He can’t escape a throbbing pain that constantly finds its way back to him and makes itself known whenever he moves his head too fast. 

“Let’s do something about that.” She raises her hand, lets it hover over his forehead and Cloud feels a healing spell settle in. “Can’t have you run around with a headache that bad when your help is required.”

“My help…? With what…?”

“Oh, I just wanted to fetch some supplies from downstairs,” she chirps. “We are making dinner!”

\----

As he follows her, he takes in the look of the old church proper for the first time. He sort of knew that it was a place where she used to hang out a lot. There just were too many other things to do during the war, so he hardly found the time to join her, yet ponder about it. And after the war, they went separate ways. For most of the time.

When Cloud looks up, the roof is in the best condition it has ever been since he had last seen this place. The only hole left in the roof seems to be the one that is needed for the light to shine on the flowerbed below. He imagines the repairs to be quite easy to do when one has wings like Sephiroth.

A movement in the corner of his eye makes him turn his head. A dark feather. Far bigger than a bird’s. Cloud already knows who it belongs to. He catches it. Holds it gently. Turns it in the light. Observes how it shimmers, a constant transition between dark blue and purple in its highlights.

Instinctively his eyes wander up. And then he sees Sephiroth sleeping on one of the beams. 

The dark angel is lying on one of his wings, using the other as a blanket again. Curled up like that seems to be his chosen way of sleeping. It makes his shape look so inhuman yet peaceful. Like a giant bird in a way. Watching him sleep like that transfixes Cloud in way more ways than he wants to admit.

His eyes then find a new interest in Aerith, armed with a bucket, as she collects a bunch of Sephiroth’s black feathers. 

“That big bird’s shedding a lot.”

She says with a kind smile. 

Cloud watches as she walks to the oven that is set up in a makeshift cooking area. She then feeds the feathers to the fire. One by one.

“It’s better to burn them. They hold his DNA after all.” She pauses. “As he is becoming stronger, it has gotten harder and harder to make them catch fire, though.”

Cloud nods in silent understanding. The other one, the one who is dead now. He had a talent that made him lean towards fire, too. As though his body was made for it. It was the strongest magic he could cast. There were stories about how his long hair wouldn’t burn. Neither would his skin.

Aerith’s hand is on Cloud’s shoulder suddenly. Ushering him gently to move on.

She skips ahead and he follows as she makes her way to the old stairs. “This way, Cloud,” she winks. Her careful movements are telling him that she doesn’t want to wake the dark angel. So he follows along, carefully, as she leads him further down.

“He sleeps a lot.” She says in a low voice as they descend.

“I have figured that he is not at the energy level that he needs to sustain himself reliably, so he has to rest often. And having to sustain both of you quite certainly drained him even more.”

Cloud’s heightened senses never betray him. And so he sees her worried face even in the faint light of the basement. 

She lifts a crate and he holds out his arms so she can place it in his hands. His worried expression seems to mirror hers, since she suddenly adds “it has gotten better over time, though… His strength I mean. Since he er… well; he’s improving.”

She turns her back to him then as though there is something that she doesn’t want to tell him. It hurts to know that she may not trust him. That to her, just knowing that someone like him left ShinRa is not enough. 

He looks hard for words that could comfort her.

“I… uh… you don’t have to talk to me about that if you’re not feeling comfortable. I’d probably not trust myself either if I were walking in your shoes.” He says at last as she fills the crate with several goods. 

She nods, half amused, half sad. “Well, even if you promise me now that you won’t be any danger to us, we both know that you haven’t got the best reputation when it comes to keeping your word. Seph and I have been looking out for each other since he arrived here, you know? And… we had both worked hard to make sure that your ways never cross. To keep any risks as low as possible.”

And then she says something that gives Cloud mixed feelings since it painfully reminds him of a past he’ll most likely never manage to shake.

“It was like I had seen it coming… that we couldn’t go on like that forever. You are a hunter after all. And so it was only a matter of time until you’d find him.”

That morning in the slums, Cloud wants to say, when he sensed something and all of a sudden, Aerith had blocked his way. She had tried to protect her friend from him and failed since Cloud had already picked up his trail. He forces himself to listen instead. Doesn’t want to make her feel any more suspicious of him. So instead he says “I am no danger to you guys. He saved my life, Aerith. Even ‘someone like me’ wouldn’t go as low as to not understand that I am in his debt now.” 

The irony weighs heavy on his shoulders. Is there yet another thing that needs to be addressed now, as long as the dark angel is still out of earshot. 

“Does he know what happened to… the Sephiroth of this world?”

“You mean that you killed him?” Her expression has darkened. She is not sparing him the grim details. 

“I’ve never told him. He’s got a hunch, though, since he asked me if you were a good guy _cause he sure as hell can’t tell_ ,” she quotes. “I told him that you got involved with the wrong people, but that’s in the past and you’re trustworthy otherwise.” It is impressive to see how she can switch her stance instantly. From the friendly flower girl to the intimidating posture of a battle-hardened veteran. “Don’t make me regret that decision.”

Cloud nods quietly to that. It’s probably for the best to spare Sephiroth that detail. He doesn’t want to lose the bit of trust that he fought so hard to earn.

“Speaking about trust.” Her voice drags Cloud from his thoughts. “He doesn’t know who I was during the war. He thinks I am just a healer and a flower girl and I’d prefer for it to stay that way. At least until he has improved some more.”

“You don’t want him to know that you were a hunter, too.” He says, voice grim.

Seeing how she avoids saying the word at all raises a sudden urge in Cloud to make her understand that he is not the only person in the room with a questionable past.

She stops her work, puts down the crate she had just picked up with a loud thump. “We did what we had to do.” 

He glares back at her, painfully aware of how bright his eyes are shining in this scarcely illuminated place, and how that makes him look anything but human. “We killed everyone who tried to run from ShinRa. We used their deaths as a ransom to pay for our own lives!”

Aerith stares back at him, eyes shining as bright and otherworldly as his own. “What else should we have done, Cloud? Try to overthrow ShinRa? It worked out great for him, didn’t it?”

Cloud feels the crate in his arms cracking dangerously as the mako rises in him, a fire burning through his veins. “He died because he was alone…!”

“He died because you betrayed him, Cloud.”

That’s it. The words are out. That which they never dared to speak about since they both had left ShinRa now hangs heavy in the air between them. They stare darkly at each other. The crates of supplies between them manifesting the wall that had risen quickly since they had been on their own. 

Cloud bites his lip, shakes his head slowly as though he wants to fight off the thought.

“I was on his side until he killed Zack,” he says finally, voice small.

“Did you see him do it?”

He knows that she is glaring at him. She had always been so much better than him when it came to intimidating people. Considering her body size, this in itself would already have been impressive. If one took her skills with magic into account, too, only an idiot would have ever dared to duel her.

He puts his crate down, too. It cracks once more but holds. “I saw his wounds.”

“But you did not see Sephiroth perform the kill.”

“I saw the beginning of the fight on the camera live feed, Aerith. Zack was holding back and Sephiroth wasn’t. He couldn’t win this fight, Aerith. He didn’t want to kill his lover!”

“And neither did Sephiroth!”

“Are you implying that ShinRa staged Zack’s death to manipulate me?”

“Worked quite well, didn’t it? You were the only one strong enough to beat him at that time!”

“But only because he was mortally wounded already.”

“Does that make any difference? You still killed him!”

Cloud tilts his head, the hot poison, the mako in his veins, and what else is there making him wish that he was back at his old strength. Just so that he’d not have to rely on anyone, anyone at all. So he could just live on his own and not have to face any of the dark stories of his past ever again.

Focus. Count to ten. Breathe.

Her eyes on him are like piercing daggers. He knows that he has to say something now to diffuse the situation. It is easier thought than done.

“I’ve regretted it from the moment I saw his body dissolve into the lifestream, Aerith.” He says slowly, breathing through his teeth. “If I could make it undone, I would. But when I saw my best friend dead, and all the evidence pointed towards Sephiroth... I saw red.”

She crosses her arms over her chest, eyes still shining as green flames of pain. “They’ve always used your temper against you. That’s why you never made it past Second.” 

“Oh, believe me, I understand that now. I learned it the hard way, Aerith. All my friends from the war, except you, are dead.”

“They were my friends, too, Cloud!”

“What the hell do you want me to say. Aerith?” He holds his arms out in an open, helpless gesture. 

Waits for her to speak up, but instead, she just stares him down. And suddenly her eyes say it all. He understands with a pang that she’s only been nice to him whenever he encountered her to keep him from finding her friend. And if the other Sephiroth hadn’t asked her to help him…

“Would you have let me die if he hadn’t asked you to save me?” He asks her, head hanging in defeat. “Do you hate me that much?”

Another moment of silence stretches between them and he wonders how the hell the conversation could have escalated that quickly. The only explanation is that she was holding a lot of her feelings back. Feelings that were right under the surface and could no longer be held back once she feared for her friend’s safety.

“I do not hate you, Cloud.” She says suddenly. Eyes still trained on him, two green orbs shining in the faintly lit room. “I just don’t trust you.

“Okay then, how is that? I’ll leave you two alone once you tell me that it’s safe for me to go. Alright? You’ll never see me again.” 

He wants to add ‘I promise’, but Aerith has already made it painfully clear that she doesn’t trust his words. So instead he says “just kill me if I cross your path again. The two of you together should easily be able to overpower me.”

“Kill you, why?” A familiar voice says behind them suddenly.

Cloud spins around. Sephiroth stands in the doorframe. He has one hand resting on the wall as though he had just been peeking inside the room to see what they were up to. His size forces him to duck his head. Yet, ironically, he looks the least menacing of the three of them.

Sephiroth’s eyes dart back and forth between Aerith and Cloud and Cloud understands that the silver-haired man wonders if it has been a good idea to follow their voices. If he should have come down here at all. “Aerith…?” he starts, his green eyes betraying insecurity.

“We have decided that it is for the better that Cloud leaves us once we know that your crystal has been successfully sealed within his body.”

Sephiroth narrows his eyes as he steps into the room so he can stand at his full size. He still looks insecure to Cloud, wary. Traits that he has never seen on the Sephiroth of his own world. Traits that only show him once again that Aerith has every reason to want to keep her friend from harm. Keep him from someone as destructive as him.

“The way you explained it earlier made it sound like the seal needs to be renewed at least once.” The silver-haired man says in a stern voice. “Asking him to leave now would put his life at risk.”

“And keeping him around would risk ours.”

“Why?”

“Because we don’t know if he is still with ShinRa, Seph.”

Now, Sephiroth’s eyes dart back to Cloud who instinctively changes into a posture ready to defend himself. It’s a reflex that is hard to shake when one has been with ShinRa for so many years. In combination with his ever so strongly shining eyes, it is not helping him to look anything but menacing and he knows this. He hates himself for it. 

“Cloud?”

Why, just why must he look at him with that compassion in his eyes? Cloud thinks frustrated. It makes all that has to be said and done so much harder.

“Look, I can’t change what I am,” the blonde says, head hanging in defeat. “ All I can say is; I have tried to do the right thing this time. But it was not enough. It never is enough.”

When Cloud looks up at Sephiroth again, there is a sadness in those green, catlike eyes that hurts more than any words Aerith could ever usher Cloud’s way. He cannot bear to see it. 

He takes a step towards the silver.

“I am sorry if I gave you the impression that I could be anything else than what I am. I guess I’m nothing like your Cloud and you better don’t put any hopes on me.”

Sephiroth’s eyes have grown gradually darker with every word that escaped the blonde’s lips. The softness makes room for a much graver expression. Something that comes closer to what Cloud is used to. But still isn’t quite there.

“It wouldn’t be safe for you to leave now, Cloud.”

“It wouldn’t be safe for you if I stayed, either.” Cloud starts and then feels that he can’t hold Sephiroth’s eyes any longer. So he pushes himself past the silver-haired man, who makes way reluctantly.

“I’m sorry for all the trouble I have caused you. I'll find my way out.”

_I get that we’re not the good guys, never have been._ A voice within him wants to say. 

_I’ve learned the hard way - what guilt we carry. And now we’re seeking redemption._ _But there’s none, I guess. Not for people like us. Not after all the shit we’ve done._

He keeps walking instead. He had been naive enough to believe that Aerith would somehow be able to see past the reason why he had taken her childhood friend from her. The kid she grew up with in the labs. They’d been so very close to each other until Sephiroth became a SOLDIER and Aerith had joined the hunters. Both way too young, way too early. ShinRa was operating with child soldiers, but of course, they didn’t call them that. They used sophisticated propaganda campaigns instead to make the soldiering look like the highest honor a boy could ever want to aspire.

Aerith and Sephiroth saw each other on the battlefield every now and then. They respected each other. But the silver-haired man knew what she did. That she went after their own kind. And could never fully forgive her for the path that she had chosen.

_You’re looking as much for redemption as I am._ Cloud thinks as he makes his way out of the church without looking back. _You’re just better equipped to see it through. No one, no one at all, would expect a casual flower girl to have your past._

_I will never be able to hide what I am._

_No matter how hard I try._

_So, if I didn’t fuck it up for us by doing another stupid thing,_

_I’d just be what would lead ShinRa back to your case._

_And I can’t let that happen._

He stands and watches the birds fly.

Thinking how he had destroyed his Sephiroth by wanting too much.

Wondering if perhaps he could make it right this time. Not waste this second chance. Simply by removing himself from the equation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We all know that Cloud thinks that he can avoid running into Sephiroth again, but of course, stuff will happen that will force them back into each other's arms. :P


	11. Of Fire And Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a continuation of chapter 9.
> 
> More about alt. Sephiroth - how he grew into a young adult, and what had happened after his "angel" (*cough*) had left him.
> 
> Oh... and... Genesis is here, too.  
> But not in the way you'd think.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What can I say?  
> I love conflict. It helps a character grow.  
> And you gotta admit - Genesis is just perfect for that!
> 
> There is -no- smut in this chapter. 
> 
> Just some pining and some stuff that is important for Sephiroth's character development. He is young and inexperienced in many ways. 
> 
> He lacks a good part of the training and knowledge that we would usually connect to "a Sephiroth". You could almost say that I nerfed him. To me this was important, however, to give him room to grow.
> 
> So Cloud will return very soon and then it will focus pretty much on Seph/Cloud. (Sefikura)
> 
> However, if you are interested in Seph/Gen content, I would appreciate it if you let me know because then I might consider writing some spinoff material for them.
> 
> Almost forgot to say: The Omegaverse fic is up. I managed to get it done for the deadline. ^_^  
> The fic is called "Bodyguard", it's a Sefikura pairing from the start. ;)

## 

(Posted with permission. Source: [Click here for artist's Twitter :)](https://twitter.com/DarkTownArt/status/1288233958753349632/photo/1) )

## 11 Of Fire And Fire

( Toxic -2WEI)

  
  


The years went by. 

Sephiroth trained.

He got harder, better, faster, stronger. 

Could fight for hours on end.

His angel never returned.

As the years passed he began to wonder

if his angel had been nothing but a dream.

If he had just fantasized him into being at his darkest hours

to keep his mind from falling apart.

And if the improvements that happened after the angel had “visited” him weren’t the results of his doings at all, but quite simply came from a change within ShinRa’s management structure.

It didn’t sound that magical at all anymore when he analyzed ít like that.

Sat back and looked at it with the mind of a young man growing into an adult.

Sephiroth concluded that the older he got, the more he would have to look out for himself and take responsibility for his own actions.

He would have to abandon the desperate wish of having someone who would take care of him.

That in itself wasn’t easy. He could use Angeal as an aid for guiding his moral compass, but when it came to training, ShinRa soon didn’t have anything to offer anymore that was a real challenge.

The only one capable of keeping him at bay to a certain extent once he was pushing it was Angeal. And the man had been pumped with mako to the brim. So much that it worried Sephiroth sometimes.

  
He could see it in his eyes. Despite Angeal’s calm nature, they would shine ever so brightly even in fairly lit environments. Adding an edge to the man that he could never shake fully no matter how kindly he smiled.

The war with Wutai broke out when Sephiroth was 15. 

He knew that this should mean something to him.

Not just in regards to what he had accomplished so far. 

That he should care about the suffering of the people whose country they were invading. 

All he saw was a chance to prove himself.

A chance to end the war early and show everyone that he was worthy.

Worthy of what exactly he wasn’t sure anymore.

But he knew that being a SOLDIER was all he had.

So he would go from there and hopefully it would help him escape that feeling of being stuck in an endless void.

As he went headfirst into battle, he learned soon that he had overestimated his own powers.

That something was amiss.

Wutai learned. 

Wutai adapted. 

Dispersed more troops to wear him down.

Sent summons on his heels. 

They always sent enough to slow his and ShinRa’s efforts enough so Wutai could win time.

Time for what exactly he couldn’t tell. But he meanwhile knew enough about warfare to know that both factions were burning through a lot of their resources by holding on to their battlefronts so relentlessly. Wutai was still losing ground. The war would go on for years this way. Until either Wutai or ShinRa would run out of resources.

And considering ShinRa’s size, it was unlikely that they would falter first.

All it meant was that a lot of people would die unnecessarily. 

\----

When Sephiroth had just come of age, he thought that he’d seen him again.

His angel. 

Watching as he was surrounded by enemies.

Watching how he had overestimated his own strengths again -

And watching how he almost died.

Just to turn around and walk away then, with Sephiroth too weak to follow.

Perhaps he had seen it wrong and the blonde man was just a symbol of an entirely different being.

An angel of death most likely.

From that moment on he would engage in even riskier maneuvers.

He was reckless.

Too many times he went right into the front lines.

Too many times it looked like he would barely survive,

just to find himself winning the upper hand last second.

His angel never showed himself again.

And Sephiroth did not know why.

  
  


\----

  
  


The wreckage he caused within enemy lines did not go by unnoticed, however.

So he caught the attention of someone else instead.

A young wutaian sword master came to see him in duel. 

The Crimson General. A man with burning blue eyes and auburn-colored hair, who wore a red coat and hid his face behind a red oni mask. Sephiroth saw at once that the man had been enhanced with Mako. It burned hotly in his eyes.

When Sephiroth called out to learn his name, the Crimson General bowed in a dramatic gesture and simply said “Genesis.”

He waited to let his entrance sink in, then held up his sword, a red rapier. “The goddess has bestowed me with her powers. She shall guide my hand as I drive you out of our lands, Devils of ShinRa!” 

And with that, he pointed his rapier at Sephiroth. “I shall begin with you.”

From that day on Genesis and Sephiroth would chase each other along the battlefields for hours. Despite Sephiroth being of a far lower rank than the General. He had not been promoted past 2nd class since he lacked the patience and experience to make it to a 1st - or even past that, to a General.

The Crimson General seemed to care far more about encountering someone with a matching strength, than someone who carried his own rank. And that sparked a feeling of honor that burned hotly in Sephiroth’s chest.

Whenever Sephiroth seemed to win the upper hand, however, Genesis fought back twice as hard. There seemed to be no real way for him to win any of their duels anytime soon.

They wore each other down until their legs could hardly carry them anymore. Too many times both of them barely survived - just to seek the other out again once they spotted him across the battlefield next time.

The frontline still moved into wutaian lands, but it had slowed down even more now that the two men were so busy with each other. And one day it came to a halt altogether. 

Sephiroth was convinced that he could turn the tide once he managed to catch Genesis. He doubled his efforts and then, on this one special day, the mask broke. Sephiroth stared as he saw it explode into countless pieces.

The face that it revealed was beautiful in ways that he had not expected it to be. Androgynous, yet fierce enough to command respect. 

Sephiroth didn’t have a chance to ask himself why his enemy had worn a mask in the first place. It had perhaps been intended as means to dehumanize him and make his whole appearance more dramatic. Since now that the mask had gone, Sephiroth could read more than just the other’s eyes. He now could see everything. Joy, frustration, glimpses of respect when the silver-haired warrior had gotten close to almost killing his opponent with a deadly blow.

Over the weeks something changed. It showed itself most strongly when the auburn-haired man made Sephiroth feel like he had the upper hand. As though all he had to do was chase him down. So Sephiroth chased after Genesis wherever he would go without giving it a second thought once he saw him race across the battlefield. 

They would stray further and further from their known battlegrounds. Genesis dashed ahead and Sephiroth followed on his heels. They engaged in duels that turned into a show-off of raw strength and power. 

Sephiroth stared in awe when he struck his first building down. Jumped the highest he had ever jumped, adrenalin racing through his veins, when Genesis unleashed stronger and even stronger elemental spells on him.

Since the fronts had come to a complete halt, troops of both forces were now entrenched on each side of the front; leaving nothing more than a dead no man's land in the middle. 

Either Sephiroth or Genesis could have turned the tide but both warriors seemingly canceled each other out. Sephiroth had told Angeal to stay out of this. He fought with honor. If ShinRa would ever ask them to go two against one, he would refuse the fight. It was his first act of defiance. Besides, Angeal had found his own matching opponent. A wutaian swordmaster called Zack, so he was busy anyway. 

With neither of them winning the upper hand, Sephiroth and Genesis were now chasing each other like feral wolves. Reckless in their approach. Not caring for anything or anyone in their way and the unenhanced troops stayed out of their way anyhow.

Until one day it happened. 

Sephiroth made a mistake. 

With his back pinned against a wall, he saw the red rapier rush towards his face. That was it, then. At least he would die in battle. With honor.

The blade rammed into the wall mere inches from his head. Sephiroth stared at the other man. Wide-eyed. Genesis grinned back slyly as he caught his breath. 

He was standing so close, 

too close…

And this very moment Sephiroth finally understood that he had seen it wrong. That there was something else - a far more carnal reason why he was seeking out the fight with the auburn-haired man. 

… and then Genesis leaned in and put his free hand on the wall next to Sephiroth’s head while the silver-haired man stared back at him like a deer in headlights.

“You lost this one,” cooed the Crimson General, supremely satisfied with his performance and Sephiroth fought hard to hold on to his wits.

“I’ll beat you next time,” the young warrior said stubbornly, heart beating wildly. 

“We will see about that.” There was something dark in Genesis’ eyes. Something wanton and longing. They flicked to Sephiroth’s lips and then back to his eyes. 

Sephiroth realized that he knew that kind of look. Angeal had had it when he had asked him if he had ever considered kissing a friend... 

But knowing that his enemy could have this type of interest in him suddenly changed everything.

“What are you waiting for?” He managed.

“Permission,” said the other as he leaned in and Sephiroth’s heart raced so wildly that he thought it would jump out of his chest any moment. 

And then, close to his lips, Genesis stopped. The tease. It was frustrating. 

Genesis was daring him to chicken out. 

He would not falter to a kiss, Sephiroth thought stubbornly, even though the prospect of kissing his enemy scared him more than any duel they could ever fight with swords. With a growl, he reached out and crossed the missing inches. A hand on the back of Genesis’s head.

He felt those foreign lips on his and did his best to find his way with them. Fighting hard to not show to the other just how nervous this made him. And then, suddenly, Genesis pulled away.

“I was almost worried that you would never catch on.” the Crimson General said with that smug grin on his face as he looked back at the enemy soldier whom he had just kissed.

“We’re not on the same side,” Sephiroth said darkly, the wall behind his back was suddenly very much needed to help him keep his balance.

“I know.” said his foe. He was still staring at Sephiroth’s lips and it made the young warrior’s heart race even faster.

“This means we shouldn’t do that.” he managed to say. But his voice was small.

“Are you revoking permission, then?”

“No…”

Genesis didn’t give him a chance to say another word. He leaned in and kissed his foe again. Longer this time and with more passion and Sephiroth found himself eagerly returning it. He held on to the other men, pulled him in closer. It suddenly felt easy to do this. To just follow Genesis’ lead again but in an entirely different direction this time. 

When the kiss was over, and Sephiroth saw the wanton expression on Genesis’ face, he felt a wave of shame rush through him. 

Genesis was still an enemy soldier. 

And what they were doing here was…

It was wrong. 

He was supposed to kill him or take him prisoner.

Not to see him as a lover.

He forcefully pushed the crimson-haired man away, ignoring the hurt expression on Genesis’ face. He dashed back to his own lines without looking back. 

Sephiroth returned to his usual business but couldn’t ignore the changed context in which he saw the Crimson General now. He could not engage with him romantically again. It bore too many risks. A distraction far from the well-known battlefields could be used way too easily for an ambush. And at the same time, Sephiroth was too ashamed and too worried that his loyalty could be questioned. So he did not tell anyone what had happened. Not even Angeal.

From now on, whenever he saw the Crimson General across the battlefield, with those bright eyes burning like blue fire, he resisted the temptation to fight him. Ignored Genesis’ taunts. Tried to keep himself together. The other would always stay close to him, on his own side of the no man's land and within his own trenches. Genesis always seemed to know where Sephiroth would be. As though he belonged to him entirely. Solely dedicated to him and him only. Just waiting for him to come out and play.

He decided then that Genesis was a distraction that he should get rid of quickly and efficiently. To minimize risks but also so that the troops could finally leave the trenches and be set into movement again. When he and Genesis were the factors that could decide how the outcome of the war would be decided, then it was about time that he finally did what was expected of him. 

He would best the Crimson General in battle and take him prisoner.


	12. Cloud

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sephiroth has seen through his foe's plans.  
> The only question is: Is he strong enough to stop him on his own?

## 12 Cloud

(Thistle & Weeds - Mumford and Sons)

  
  
  


The decision was final. Sephiroth would hunt the Crimson General down. 

Regardless of what the other man had said and done. Sephiroth had been trained his whole life to function in a war environment. His first thought would always go towards the question of how an enemy might want to use him for his own benefit.

He came to the conclusion that it was true; Wutai could easily overthrow ShinRa if Sephiroth switched sides. But the same was true the other way around. Once Genesis was removed from the equation, ShinRa could advance with ease.

This would end the war finally. Which would be the best for all of them. And regardless of how sincere the Crimson General’s motives might have been, it would be the most foolish thing to just trust him because of one thing he had said and done. 

Which in return only meant that if Sephiroth managed to capture the Crimson General, there was a chance to make him join their own forces once the war was over. Genesis would probably hate him for besting him. But he couldn’t be disgruntled with him forever. He was a trained soldier just like Sephiroth after all. A professional warmonger. 

And so was Sephiroth. He was bound to his duty and see his job through. It was far more important to end this war as soon as possible than to play around with your enemy.

So the next chance he saw him, Sephiroth jumped out of his trench and charged through the no man’s land. And Genesis dashed off and away, with Sephiroth following on his heels.

They had hardly run a mile when Sephiroth realized that Genesis had never shown him his full speed. The silver-haired warrior had trouble keeping up. This was when he began to realize that Genesis dictated where they would be going. That he had done so from day one, and that it probably wasn’t a wise idea to follow him. 

The Crimson General had bested him once, just to toy with him, then. Make him question his own feelings -and what was right and wrong. It was foolish to go on. What in the name of Gaia had he been thinking?

Sephiroth slowed, then came to a halt.

In the distance, he saw Genesis look over his shoulder. And then he turned around. 

The auburn-haired man was still a good distance away, but Sephiroth could already see the glint in his shining blue eyes. He had seen the trap too late. Damn it. Strong and fast as he may be, he still lacked experience when it came to fighting enemies of his strength. Warriors that weren’t Angeal. Warriors that had been promoted to General already while Sephiroth still ran with the 2nd.

And now he saw ever too clearly why “psychological warfare” - the skill of being able to read your enemy and tap into their fears and desires and then using them against them - made a difference between what he was and what made a man like Genesis a general.

Genesis had been toying with him, hiding his true strength until he had roped Sephiroth in close enough to make the young warrior forget that the ultimate goal of their encounters still was to beat the other one. To either kill him or take him prisoner. 

Becoming friends or even lovers was excluded from that plan altogether. Sephiroth had known this and still been an open book from the moment he saw the other man’s handsome face. He had been too distracted to see Genesis’ true strength and now he would pay for his mistake.

Sephiroth decided that he would fight his hardest to try and capture Genesis. He would show the man. Show him that he was not to be used as a toy. That the wutaian warrior could not simply venture to their section of the trenches and take him out after Sephiroth had spent so many years securing ShinRa’s advances in this part of the country.

“Genesis Rhapsodos,” he called out. “Crimson General of Wutai. In the name of the ShinRa empire, I, Sephiroth Crescent, have come to take you prisoner!”

Something shone up in his foe’s eyes... Sephiroth had hardly enough time to draw his sword when Genesis’ rune enhanced rapier crashed against his blade already. 

What was it? Mockery? 

Reading other people’s emotions had never been Sephiroth’s strong side. Still, he was quite sure that he saw mockery. And it made his blood boil. Who was he, to allow a man like that to toy with him and then use that to just steamroll him?

“I was hoping you’d be a little more friendly towards me this time.” Genesis tore him from his thoughts. “Or do I have to pin you down and make you moan in pleasure, first?”

“There will be none of that.” Sephiroth hissed through ground teeth. “Don’t ever touch me again!”

“Last time we met you seemed to like it quite a lot.” Genesis retorted.

“I do not like to be toyed with,” Sephiroth growled in anger as he dished out blow after blow. “And I am not stupid enough to not see through your little charade.”

“Oh…,” Genesis chuckled. He parried each blow with ease, no matter how much strength Sephiroth lay into it. “Oh, you have no idea…of what I want to show you!”

Genesis lashed out, and Sephiroth was thrown back by a strong energy surge. It came so sudden that the silver-haired warrior only regained his balance last second. He landed a good distance away from the Crimson General who stood regal in the lowering sun.

\----

  
  


He watched as the Crimson General closed his eyes slowly. The auburn-haired man looked almost otherworldly in the warm light with his hair looking like it was on fire around the edges, and his skin being so brightly illuminated. Sephiroth stared, suddenly unsure if he should charge the other man again.

He heard a soft whisper then. 

It was tearing at his mind, pulling him here and there. 

Asking for entrance. 

He did not know what it said, it was speaking too fast. 

Too incoherent. 

Confusing. 

So confusing…

And…

It scared him.

“What is that…?” He breathed. He just knew that Genesis could hear it, too.

Genesis, eyes still closed, smiled softly. 

“It is just the sweet song of the reunion,” he said gently and as though he had never heard anything more beautiful. “There is nothing to fear.”

But Sephiroth still held on to his sword, and to the barriers that shielded his mind from whatever the Crimson General was trying to force on him.

Suddenly.

Static.

It shot right into his head.

With a force so strong it made him almost lose his sword.

**_This will be far less painful if you just let me in…_ **

A voice cooed in his mind.

It did not sound like Genesis’ at all.

Sephiroth winced in pain, holding his head.

He stared through the static, saw that strangely absent expression on Genesis’ face.

He almost looked like he was sleeping.

Sephiroth could see even through his hazed vision that Genesis was not alone anymore.

A woman had closed her arms around him.

From behind.

She was tall with long white hair and violet brightly shining eyes. 

Genesis was leaning into her touch, eyes still closed. His face an expression of eternal bliss, as she cooed words at him that Sephiroth could not hear.

And then, as though she knew that they were being watched, her eyes snapped up all of a sudden, and she focused him sharply.

Sephiroth cried out as the pain in his head reached unknown heights.

Fighting nausea and pain, he could hold on to his sword no longer.

Holding his head with both hands he was struggling not to collapse.

**_Let me lend my strength to you..._ **

Sephiroth ground his teeth in agony.

He did not want someone else to be in his mind.

“I am not a puppet…!”

He cried out, gasping for air as she pushed at his boundaries again.

**_You will feel so much better once you reunite with me._ **

**_Just look at him._ **

**_And how happy he is._ **

**_You know that I am right._ **

Sephiroth blinked through the pain. 

Saw Genesis’s oddly happy face while his body seemed to be caught in eternal slumber.

“He’s a prisoner…!”

**_He’s far stronger than he could ever be._ **

**_Reached all his goals in just a fortnight._ **

**_And so could you, my son._ **

“Don’t you dare ‘my son’ me!”

Sephiroth growled back at her.

Who was she to think that she knew him?

That she could just take him over?

There was only one person he had ever wanted to give himself entirely to, and he wasn’t here and would probably never come back to see him ever again!

As anger rose in him he suddenly felt stronger.

Did she really think he wasn’t seeing through this ruse?

That he didn’t know that his enemy was only interested in him because they wanted to use him? Turn him over so they could win this war?

She did not care about him, how could she?

She didn’t even know who he was!

He held on to his anger as he stared back at her.

“Everything you say is a lie!” he bellowed at her. Panting. “You can rot!”

She tilted her head sideways at that.

The friendly expression on her face - gone.

The sight made his blood freeze.

She let go of Genesis in a nonchalant gesture.

He wavered a little but still stood there, head hanging low, as she walked past him.

Her eyes trained on her prey.

Sephiroth cursed silently.

If he could only reach his sword…

But now that she focused on him entirely, he was frozen in place.

It took everything he had to keep his barriers up as she sashayed towards him. 

**_I was hoping that you were a little more like him._ **

She echoed in his mind.

It was painfully loud.

**_He saw all the possibilities the moment he lay eyes on me._ **

**_And look where he is now. He will overthrow all of ShinRa single-handedly._ **

_Why do you need me, then…?_

He was both amazed and scared at the fact that he suddenly spoke back to her, not with words but through his mind. He still felt the overwhelming danger of her power all around him, as she came closer and reached out an arm for him in a loving and tender gesture only a mother could have.

**_For the reunion, my child._ **

**_Just let me show you…_ **

While she was still clawing at his walls, she made him see memories of his lonely childhood. And how he wanted to be like other children and have a family, a mother…

_You have never been there for me…!_

He tried in a last, desperate attempt.

**_I couldn’t._ **

**_But I will be there for you now…_ **

Her voice was surprisingly tender all of a sudden. 

It made something in him stir. A deeply buried desire.

**_You could be with us, my son._ **

**_We will look out for you._ **

**_Love you in all the ways you desire._ **

**_You would never be alone again._ **

**_Just let me show you…_ **

The man, seen from the outside, may be strong.

But the child within is crying.

It’s always crying…

\----

  
  


Someone screamed.

In pain 

and agony.

He didn’t know if it was him or her or Genesis. 

Or someone else. 

Or all of them together.

All he knew was that he was kneeling.

Blinking, confused, trying to focus.

To see clearly again.

The static came back stronger than ever.

It was so hard to see…

To see anything at all.

There was a blade... 

driven through the woman’s body.

She screamed in anger. 

Her hair waving in a storm like a living thing.

  
Sephiroth could not make sense of it.

He blinked again, 

and she was gone.

But the static was still there...

There was only Genesis and… 

this other person.

And by the sound of it, Genesis was himself again.

Genesis yelled something in anger.

And then someone else yelled back.

“That’s General Strife to you, asshole!”

The sound of clashing swords.

And then silence.

Footsteps next.

Someone took Sephiroth’s hand gently, 

and suddenly the pain was gone.

He blinked once more in confusion.

Looked up slowly.

The man in front of him wore a black general’s coat.

It screamed ShinRa, but Sephiroth had no recollection of someone like this being a part of their army.

The face, however.

The face and those blonde spikes…

“I am General Cloud Strife from the northern sector.” said the other.

His blue eyes, focusing on Sephiroth and how the silver-haired man was too stumped to say a word.

“You shouldn’t stray so far from your troops. SOLDIER 2nd class. Being alone out here makes you vulnerable to ambushes.”

“Yes… Sir…” was all Sephiroth could manage.

Cloud took a step back and allowed Sephiroth to raise to his full height.

He was almost a head taller than the general, and still, he felt small.

What had just happened felt like a hazy dream to him. Still, he knew that it was true. That he had really experienced it. And he knew, too, that the general had single-handedly defeated Genesis and ‘the goddess’ both. That he possessed a strength possibly far greater than what Sephiroth had ever seen before. 

Wouldn’t ShinRa want to have someone like him as their poster boy? And yet, Sephiroth had no recollection of the man. None at all. Other than that he looked like…

But that was foolish to hope, Sephiroth thought to himself.

He was not a boy anymore…

“Crescent.” the general said suddenly, and it was odd that he knew Sephiroth’s name. “This way.”

Sephiroth nodded, picked up his sword, and dashed after the general. His mind raced wildly. He had so many questions...


End file.
